Less than Strangers
by donotsrock
Summary: SSHG. Hermione is kidnapped, but Snape rescues her. A prophecy ensures that she doesn't have much time to enjoy being back. Rating for future chapters (violence, rape, sex).
1. Default Chapter

**Less Than Strangers**

by donotsrock

_A/N 1: Now (March 13,2004) I can upload the beta-ed version! THANK YOU, Story 645 and CrystalStarlight, my betas. Your extensive comments and helpful suggestions really improved the story._

_Disclaimer: "Less Than Strangers" is a song by Tracey Chapman (I picked it because I like it…). All rights belong to her and probably several other people. The story is based on characters and situations created by J.K. Rowling, no trademark infringement is intended. And I don't make money. And it certainly doesn't belong to me. Blahblahblah._

Chapter One – Reality

Slowly, Hermione lifted her head. Tears were burning behind her closed eyelids but she would not show any more weakness. Not even to herself. She forced herself to open her eyes – and cringed when the sharp light shot a stabbing pain through her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, only to be rewarded with more pain. With a swollen and bruised face, squeezing was clearly a mistake, Hermione reminded herself. Trying to stay calm she went over the ingredients for a Cooling Potion in her mind. It didn't help. She still felt the pain, and the heat, and the fear. And the fear wasn't even the worst of it. Far, far worse were the unknown "surprises" that would undoubtedly come. And the helplessness. 

_'Oh, God, someone please come and get me out of here.'_ She knew she couldn't take it much longer. Sooner or later she'd just crack and spill everything she knew – even the colour of Harry's favourite pyjama bottoms. And judging from the pain, it'd be sooner. 

She resisted the urge to sigh and forced her eyes open, this time being more careful. After a few minutes, her eyes had adjusted to the light. It was not, as she had suspected, coming from a burning hot and impossibly bright shining fire but a little torch illuminating a small circle with a rather dim light. Apart from that light, it was dark in the room. She couldn't make out anything outside of the light's radius, but she knew how it looked anyway. After all, she'd been here for four days. 

The cell was actually quite spacious. The high ceiling and cold stone walls ensured a constantly low temperature in the cell; but despite the chill, Hermione was sweating. _'I'm probably in shock,'_ she thought, her analytical mind still not able to switch off and veer off to occasional random thoughts of 'Panic! Panic!'; in a way, it would have been easier. 

She looked around. It seemed as if she was alone in the cell. Good, she was so tired. Tired of being constantly aware of everything that was going on. Tired of needing to be constantly aware of everything that was going on. She had learned pretty fast that it wouldn't do her any good to ignore her surroundings. In fact, she had learned that about half an hour after she woke up in this damned cell. She'd been walking around, trying to find a way out, or a weapon, or anything useful. But she had not been careful. 

He'd used that. He'd been watching her under a Concealment Charm. Invisible, but she should have seen him coming anyway. She should have at least heard him, but she'd been totally unprepared. She hadn't seen his face (_of course not, a Concealment Charm didn't wear of that easily_), but to be honest she didn't even want to know. Not anymore. Afterwards she'd been lying on the cold stone floor, sobbing and aching. Aching in places she'd never known could actually hurt. Aching all over. 

He'd only said four words to her that day. In a low, hissing voice she didn't recognise, and was sure it wasn't his normal voice. _'Probably another charm.'_ __

"Lesson one: Constant vigilance," he'd said in an involuntarily imitation of Alastor Moody. The irony hadn't been wasted on her. But somehow she'd been too… occupied; otherwise she'd surely have laughed at the irony. 

Hermione shifted slightly and tried to stand up. She had the feeling that all she did was try, and that she would never get anywhere. She couldn't stand up. Her knees gave way each time she tried to put weight on them. She wondered if they'd hexed her to keep her immobile. But maybe her legs were broken. She couldn't quite determine the source of her pain. It seemed to be all over her. Even her eyes hurt. Well, at least she still had eyes. The other girl hadn't been as lucky. She'd been forced to watch while one of them made the girl's eyes bulge. And then he took them out. It looked horrible; she had vomited over the floor and the front of her robe. But the one holding her had made sure that she'd watched the mutilation to the end. She didn't know what they'd done with the poor girl (_or her eyeballs_) but she suspected something along the lines of _'kill the girl; send the eyeballs to her parents.'_ Horrible. Disgusting. She'd been relieved that the other girl had died. She'd been glad that she was still alive. Of course she'd felt guilty for a moment, but later she'd reasoned that she couldn't have done anything to help the girl. And it was _good_ to still be alive. 

Hermione doubted that now. Across her back were not only whip marks and deep cuts but also a severe burn. It was from a branding iron. She hadn't known how _hot _those could be. But then again, no one had ever tried to burn the word 'Mudblood' onto her back before. She'd seen him put the iron in the fire. She hadn't thought of it at the time. She'd been more preoccupied with the various knives and daggers lying on the table in front of her. She'd even spotted a dentist's device – she'd seen it before in her parents' office. Her parents. They seemed awfully far away. 

She couldn't believe that it had been only four and a half days since she'd hugged her mum goodbye and blown her father a kiss from the entrance of the station. She had dragged her trunk up to the platforms and had been about to pass the secret barrier when something had hit her. She had felt as if her mind was being seperated from her body, but the peculiar feeling had ceased after a minute. It had been replaced with a feeling of odd contentment. Hermione had been sure that something was wrong, but she hadn't been able focus on it. The thought had slipped her mind every time she'd tried to grasp it. Everything else was blurry. She remembered being led out of the station, towards a side street. Then her dungeon cell. 

Hermione let herself fall back against the wall, savouring the feel of the cool sensation on her burning flesh. She'd long since stopped trying to cover herself with the shreds of her clothing. Her robe was merely a half burned, half ripped apart lump of fabric in one corner of the cell, and her once white summer dress was lying blood-stained atop it. She was, however, wearing her underwear, as odd as that seemed to be. He'd told her to put it on after that first day. She hadn't objected. 

She considered the possibility of getting an infection from exposing a fresh wound to a mouldy, old wall in a dank dungeon cell, but dismissed the thought. She could deal with infections later. At the moment, she wasn't even sure that she'd live to see another day. 

The door opened. One of them came in, carrying a tray. His face was blurry and could not be made out clearly. He was wearing some sort of 'disguisement charm', or so it seemed. Maybe her eyesight had been affected by the other injuries. But if he was wearing a charm, maybe that meant they would let her go. If they were planning to kill her, why bother hiding his identity from her? Maybe there was hope after all. 

The man set the tray down beside her and motioned for her to sit up. 

"Eat," he said. 

Hermione wasn't sure what to do. On the one hand, she was starving. She hadn't eaten anything since about 60 hours, except for water, and the porridge looked extremely delicious to her. On the other hand, why would they suddenly start giving her food? Could it be a trap? Maybe they had poisoned the food. But then again, wouldn't they use a curse rather than a slow acting poison? Hermione was torn. But her hunger won. She ignored the pain in her right arm as she picked up the tray and positioned it on her lap. Wolfing down the hot porridge, she choked a few times. She tried to be reasonable and eat slowly, but she just couldn't. And she didn't like the man's watchful eyes roaming all over her body. She hoped that he'd leave with the tray and not come back, but her hopes were crushed that very moment. 

The second she finished her porridge, the man pointed his wand at her and muttered a spell.

Her hands were bound behind her back, and he roughly pulled her to her feet. The tray and the plate fell to the ground, making an eerily loud clattering sound that made Hermione shiver. 

The man brought her over to the opposite side of the cell. 

He murmured "Lumos" and every torch lit up, blinding Hermione briefly. 

When she could focus well enough to take in her surroundings, she wished that her eyes _had _been affected. 

The man had been joined by two companions. She was glad that she still couldn't see their faces clearly. She would have hated the gleeful smirk of the tallest one. They chained her to the table, as usual. _'Wait, stop,'_ she thought. _'Since when is being chained to a table considered to be "usual"? I **need** to get out of here.'_

Then it started. Torture. 

Hermione didn't count the number of times they cut her with one of the daggers, or poked her with a needle in places far too sensitive to be exposed to pain. Soon, her whole body had gone numb. She was barely conscious. 

"Well, let's move on to some more serious matters," the first man whispered into her ear, grazing her earlobe with his lips. 

It sent a shiver down Hermione's spine. That little touch had been the first feeling in days that wasn't hunger, or pain. 

The man must have noticed, too, suddenly, he grabbed her throat and hissed, "Do you like that?" 

He sounded furious. She didn't say anything, and just let the tears fall silently down her cheeks. She stared at the ceiling. 147 square stones in her field of vision, and a pair of rusty chains. A spider's web and a matching spider, one with long legs and a razor thin body. It looked dead but wasn't. Ron would've freaked. 

"Let's see how you like _that_," the man hissed, and bit down hard on her ear. She felt the pain, but didn't show it. A fine line of blood tickled down her neck. She would have laughed (she was very ticklish), but then something had her right hand in a deathly grip. She screamed and screamed and finally passed out from the pain of every single bone in her hand broken. 

***

"Miss Granger!" The voice was urgent, whispering her name with that certain note only one person could manage. "Hermione!" Every other person would interpret his stressed voice and his harsh grip on her arm as irritated, threatening even. She knew better. He was on the good side, wasn't he?

She didn't want to open her eyes. It would hurt her. Even through her closed eyelids, she could see the bright light. She was about to squeeze her eyes firmly shut when she remembered – squeezing would also hurt. 

"Miss Granger," he said once more. The grip on her arm loosened, but he still did not let go of her left arm. The one that didn't hurt so much. 

He said, "I need to get you out of here." 

She just nodded her head. 

"Good, but I will need your help. You have to tell me how many captors there are." 

She felt the hand slip away from her arm and protested weakly. It had felt good to know that someone was there to give her strength. 

Obviously, he could read her mind because his next words were, "Don't be afraid, Hermione. I won't leave you." 

Now she was forced to open her eyes. 

The first thing that came into view after her eyes had adjusted to the light was Professor Snape's face. His black hair was tousled slightly, and his forehead was clammy. He didn't look good, but to her the sight of him was the best thing she'd seen in days. 

Then she registered that he was holding out his cloak to her. She carefully took it and tried to put it on, but her right hand would not let her. Her hand was swollen and purple, all over. She supposed that about half of its bones were broken. It also hurt like hell. 

Snape gasped. A quick look at his face confirmed her assupmption that he hadn't actually known how much she'd endured. 

Tentatively, he reached out and put the cloak around her shoulders. He carefully avoided touching her bare skin while fastening the heavy cloak. 

"Could you try and stand up, Hermione?"

She nodded, and forced herself to stand up. She managed to stay upright for about two seconds before her knees buckled and she found herself being held by Snape. 

"Hermione, how many captors do you know of?" he asked again. 

"Three," she croaked, her voice hoarse from screaming. She had a coughing fit shortly afterwards. She hadn't known that a dry throat could ache more than a broken hand, but then again, she'd never known what a broken hand felt like. 

"Come now, Hermione," he said. He put one arm around her and easily lifted her off the ground. She bit her lip and cringed. Snape had unintentionally put his hand on the cutting burn across her back, but she was not going to complain now. 

"I stunned one of your captors on my way in. I didn't see anyone else," Professor Snape said. He carried her out of her cell into the dark corridor and up the stairs. "We'll be able to Apparate once we're out of the building."

"Anti-Apparition wards," Hermione said, not being able to restrain herself. Her knowledge had kept her sane over the last few days. When she'd been at the edge of insanity, she'd recited Shakespeare, or listed potion ingredients, or remembered unimportant facts about the Great Wizarding Wars. 

Snape nodded. "Of course I wouldn't have to explain it to you," he said. 

He motioned to the other end of the hall with his head. "There is the front door. You'll be safe there."

She sighed. If she'd known that freedom was this close, she would have tried to free herself instead of waiting to be rescued. Snape increased the pressure he exerted on her body for a slight moment. 

Soon, they reached the doors where Snape put her down, so that he could open them. He still supported her, which she found oddly reassuring. She felt safe. 

Once outside, Snape pulled her up into his arms again. She squeezed her eyes shut reflexively, despite better knowledge, but the sun was shining far too brightly. 

"Now, relax. I'll Apparate us to Hogwarts."

She nodded, and instinctively held onto him. The world went blurry, so she closed her eyes. The only thing that existed at that particular moment was Professor Snape. 

When she felt Professor Snape move again, she opened her eyes. They were standing outside the gates of Hogwarts. The warm afternoon sun seemed to be mocking her; it was a beautiful day. She could almost hear the birds singing. She wanted to laugh. 

"I'll take you to Madam Pomfrey." 

Professor Snape's voice brought her back to reality. She noticed that he did not walk up to the front doors but went around the castle to another entrance – much to her relief. She didn't fancy every student at Hogwarts seeing her in this condition. Everyone would know, and they would just pity her. She didn't want that. 

She buried her head in his shoulder, thankful that he didn't pull away, and nearly drifted off into unconsciousness. 

Before long, they reached the Infirmary, where Professor Snape called loudly for Madam Pomfrey. 

He laid Hermione down on the nearest bed, silently thanking the gods that no other student was at the Infirmary at that very moment. "Poppy!" he bellowed. 

Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office. "Severus, what are you doing here, yelling on top of your lungs? This isn't your dungeon, you can't go around and –" she broke off upon seeing Hermione's limp form on the bed. "Oh Merlin, Miss Granger!"

Rushing to her patient's side, Madam Pomfrey unceremoniously shoved Professor Snape out of the way. 

"Severus, go and fetch Pepper-Up Potion from my supplies, and a vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion. And bring some hot water and bandages," she ordered in a no-nonsense voice before seeing to Hermione's condition. Letting her wand run over the student's body, she made her diagnosis, and carefully treated the minor cuts and injuries. Upon seeing Hermione's right hand, she gasped. 

Professor Snape returned with his arms full of potion bottles, and was ordered to force some Pepper-Up Potion down Hermione's throat. 

She swallowed carefully, and nearly choked on one sip, when he wasn't paying enough attention. Eventually, she was able to sit upright on the bed. 

"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey started. "I'm afraid that your hand… well, every bone in your hand seems to be broken. While I hate it to expose you to more pain, that which you are already in, I must remove the splinters from your flesh and re-grow the bones. With Skele-Gro." 

Hermione nodded. She knew that Skele-Gro tasted bad, and that the whole process would hurt a lot. Harry had been forced to take it in his second year after Professor Lockhart had accidentally removed the bones in Harry's arms. "It's okay, Madam Pomfrey. I'd rather have you grow me new bones than be unable to use the old ones. You know, I think I might need that hand again at some point in my life." 

Madam Pomfrey just stared at her for a second before aiming her wand at Hermione's hand. Professor Snape allowed himself a quick smile.

_'Yes, who would have thought that know-it-all Granger had a sense of humour,' _Hermione thought sarcastically to herself. _'Madam Pomfrey obviously hadn't.'_

Hermione was handed a steaming beakerful of Skele-Gro. It didn't help her sore throat to recover. The burning liquid only made it worse. "Water," she croaked, while coughing and spluttering. Someone handed her a glass, which she took gratefully. She downed the water in one gulp, choking on it. Madam Pomfrey patted her back to help her, but that only made things worse. Hermione whimpered as the hand rubbed the rough fabric of Professor Snape's cloak further into her broken skin. 

Madam Pomfrey, however, instantly noticed that her patient had more injuries than the ones were visible. 

"Severus," she said. "You need to inform the Headmaster." Then she shooed the Potions Master out of the Infirmary and closed the curtains surrounding Hermione's bed. 

Hermione took off the cloak and Madam Pomfrey gasped once again. "Oh my," she faintly murmured. 

After all the visible injuries were tended to, Madam Pomfrey turned back to Hermione. "Miss Granger," she began hesitantly. "I know that this may be embarrassing and hurtful, but it is very important that you clarify what happened." 

Hermione raised her eyes. She knew what was coming. 

"Miss Granger, have you been assaulted in a… sexual way?" 

Biting her lip, Hermione averted her eyes. 

"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey's voice was gentle but insistent. "Have you been raped?"

Despite all the things Hermione had told herself she would do – and not do – she could not quite hold back her tears. She could not even say a word. She just nodded. 

"Then, Miss Granger, it is necessary that I run another line of tests to assure you that… there will be no… that you aren't –"

Hermione cut her off. "I'm not pregnant."

Madam Pomfrey, surprised by the hard note in Hermione's voice, instantly asked "How do you know?" before she could stop herself. 

"I'm on the pill." She couldn't quite bring herself to add that the man had cast a spell. It had been humiliating. He had told her that he wouldn't want a bastard with a Mudblood for a mother. That, in his opinion, she wasn't worth to have children at all because they would all just be half-bloods. That she should be glad to 'be done properly'. Madam Pomfrey's next question interrupted her recollection of that particular situation.

"The what?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Surely not every mediwitch could be that oblivious to Muggle contraception. "It's a Muggle medication. A form of contraception."

"But, are you sure it works? I read about it. Its effectiveness seems to depend on it being taken regularly. I don't think that… the man supplied you with it."

Hermione forced her voice to be as neutral as possible, and make her next words sound like a mere statement that was too unimportant to spring to mind directly. "Oh, well, he used a spell."

"Good." Madam Pomfrey obviously didn't want to question her further – at least for now. She helped Hermione change into a nightshirt, then handed her a glass of Dreamless Sleep Potion. "Drink this. When you awake, I want you to call on me immediately."

Hermione nodded, and took a sip of the potion. Almost instantly, she felt herself falling asleep. 

***

"I'm afraid, Albus, that I cannot allow you to wake Miss Granger. She is in dire need of rest, and I will not let you ruin the last bit of peace that the poor girl might have for the next few weeks."

"Last bit of peace? Poppy, are you sure that you're not exaggerating?"

"Absolutely. She has experienced things that go beyond anything a human being should have to endure, and if I can delay your interrogation for the time being, I will do so. Until Miss Granger feels strong enough to face you and your questions, I will not allow you to pester her."

Hermione did not open her eyes. She could hear that Madam Pomfrey and the headmaster were somewhere near the door. She rather had the impression that the mediwitch was _guarding_ the door. They were, however, far enough that she only heard muffled voices. It would have been safe to open her eyes, and still not let anyone know that she was awake. Truth be told, she didn't want to wake up. Her every muscle – and fibre – hell, even her hair, seemed to be aching. She just wasn't ready to face the new day without a Pain-Relieving Potion and a strong cup of coffee. 

She almost sighed, but she didn't want anyone to her that she was awake. She could have coffee anytime she wanted. She could eat what ever she wanted. She nearly gasped. She could use the bathroom without surveillance! Now that was something to look forward to. 

"Miss Granger?"

She didn't move. She didn't want to talk. Or open her eyes. If she did, it would all be _real_. If she didn't move, or think, or breathe, she could pretend that the last few days hadn't happened. That she was lying in her bed at home, and that her mum would come in any moment to wake her. That she'd be off to Hogwarts that very day. That she'd be alright. 

But if she opened her eyes right now, and looked into Dumbledore's face, then all of it would be real. She'd have to acknowledge that fact. And she didn't want to. 

"Miss Granger?" This time she realised that the voice didn't belong to Dumbledore, but was Madam Pomfrey's. 

Reluctantly Hermione shifted into a semi-comfortable position. She couldn't lie on her back, and lying on her stomach was a bit inconvenient when trying to talk someone, so she rolled on to her side, her left arm supporting her weight. Her right arm still didn't feel quite right. 

"How are you feeling?"

Hermione finally opened her eyes. The Infirmary wasn't brightly lit, and the curtains around her bed shut out the sunlight that was pouring into the room from outside. She sighed. "I'm fine." 

With a doubting gaze, Madam Pomfrey lifted her wand. 

"Let me see your arm," she requested, while taking Hermione's vitals. 

She checked Hermione thoroughly. "You seem to be physically unharmed. However, the scar on your back will remain. I could not prevent the scarring. The infection was too severe. But I was able to heal all the other wounds." 

The nurse paused shortly. "You didn't suffer from hexes or curses?"

Hermione shook her head. "They only prevented me from screaming. And tied me up." They had told her that it was more fun the Muggle way. She had also been assured that magical torture would follow shortly. But, luckily, she did not have to endure that anymore. Which brought her to…

"Madam Pomfrey?" 

The mediwitch raised an eyebrow to indicate that she was listening, but continued to make notes in Hermione's patient file. 

"I… I'd like to see Professor Snape."

Now she had the nurse's attention. "And why, if I may ask, are you asking for Professor Snape, instead of your Head of House? I'm sure if it has anything to do with-"

"I want to thank him."

Madam Pomfrey fell silent. "I hadn't thought of that," she admitted belatedly. "I will tell Severus that you wish to speak to him. This does not need to be done now, does it?"

Surprised, Hermione shook her head. "No. I can wait until later – but, why not? It's Saturday, right? There are no classes today."

Madam Pomfrey smiled for the first time since Hermione had been brought to the Infirmary. "First of all, it's actually Sunday."

Hermione's eyes widened. But then she had…

"Yes," Madam Pomfrey said, interpreting Hermione's expression, "you've been asleep for over 24 hours. I didn't want to wake you. Sleep is a very powerful healing charm in itself, you see. However, it is the weekend, and you are right, there are no classes. But Professor Snape always sleeps in on weekends."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "But… I never thought that he would be one to lie in bed forever," she mused. "although he never was present at breakfast on weekends."

"Yes, I thought that he got up early for nearly eight years, before I had to ask him something about a potion, and was greeted with a sleepy and generally cranky Professor Snape. I had a horrible week after that. He actually gets up so late that lunch would be his breakfast…"

Hermione didn't know how to reply. She didn't want Madam Pomfrey to wake Professor Snape. "How late is it?" she asked instead. 

"Shortly after ten. I'm afraid you have to wait a bit. Is there anything you want?"

She considered this briefly. And finally, being Hermione Granger and all, said the one sensible thing that came to her mind: "Yes, actually, I was wondering what papers have been assigned since the start of term…"

End Chapter One 

A/N: Well, here I am again. I got the idea to this story in the middle of the night, and started writing this chapter at two in the morning. It's might be a bit strange, and it isn't beta-ed. It will be SS/HG (duh!) and I honestly don't know if anyone ever did this before. If so, ignore it, or tell me. (Oh, well, you don't really know where I'm going yet, do you? Never mind. You'll learn soon enough.) However, the story will be from Hermione's POV for at least four chapters, and then it might change to be Snape's POV. And there will be a nice prophecy, and Death Eaters, and the Dark Lord himself… 

I don't know when I'll be able to write on, and thus I don't know when I'll update again, but I'll try (I have only two weeks more at university – then it's the end of the semester. Unfortunately, I have exams in those two weeks… grrr).

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated…. 

~ donotsrock  


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Hermione looked up from her book – _Transfiguration Disaster – Or: Why doesn't the teapot stay a bunny? _– to see Professor Snape enter the Infirmary. He was the first one to visit her, although she had to remind herself that he was not indeed 'visiting' her, but she'd asked for him to come. 

Harry and Ron wouldn't be allowed in until she had spoken to the headmaster. 

Sure enough Madam Pomfrey had heard the door open and came out of her office. Upon seeing Professor Snape, she relaxed. "Ah, Severus, I take it you received my note?"

Professor Snape's lips turned into a sneer. "Trust you to state the obvious, Poppy."

Madam Pomfrey huffed and said, "I will be in my office, Miss Granger. Should you need my assistance, just call for me!" With that, she turned on her heel and rushed off. 

Silence followed. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat and said, "Good morning, Professor."

"Good morning, Miss Granger," he replied. Professor Snape approached her and, noticing the book, raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

She shrugged, and suppressed the urge to flinch at the sudden pain in her back. "I don't want to fall behind at the start of term. It's my NEWT year, sir."

"I was aware of that fact." Hesitantly, Professor Snape drew his wand and conjured a chair at the foot end of her bed. He sat down. 

She was just about to start her thank-yous, when the door was opened and Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, strolled leisurely into the Infirmary. He wore his usual purple robe, and his long beard shimmered slightly in the morning light that seeped into the large room. 

"Good morning, Miss Granger," he greeted her solemnly. "Severus." His voice held just the tiniest bit of a question in it. 

"Poppy send me a note to come here," Professor Snape said, and Hermione had the impression that he wasn't very comfortable that moment. It even sounded as if he was defending himself. She chose to intervene. "I asked Madam Pomfrey to do so," she said. Both men turned their attention towards her, and while Professor Snape's eyes gave no hint to what he was thinking, Albus Dumbledore's eyes only twinkled like they always did. "Is that so, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore said, and conjured himself a chair. She was oddly aware of the fact that he now sat between herself and Professor Snape. 

"Yes," she replied. "I wanted to thank Professor Snape for rescuing me – and was about to do so when you came in." Hermione felt the headmaster's thoughtful gaze upon her. 

When she looked him in the eye, he suddenly nodded. "Yes," he said, "that sounds like a good thing to do." 

Hermione didn't want to be rude, but sometimes Dumbledore seemed to be too strange to be entirely sane. Of course it was a 'good idea' to thank Professor Snape. He'd saved her life, in the name of Merlin!

But once again, she was interrupted. Madam Pomfrey had been standing a few feet away until now, surveying the scene. Now she chose to address the headmaster. "Albus, I though you had agreed to wait until Miss Granger is ready to be questioned…" The accusation was clearly audible. 

The headmaster smiled his merry, disarming smile and turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, how do you feel about telling me what happened to you?"

Hermione swallowed and took a sip of water. "I was on my way to the platform. My parents hadn't found a free space to park the car, so we said our good-byes outside. My parents left when I entered the station. But when I was on my way to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, I was hit with a curse."

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth and nodded. "Do you have any idea what curse this was?" he asked, his pronunciation a bit unclear due to the sweets in his mouth. 

She nodded. "I suppose it was the Imperius Curse, sir. I felt a jolt of pain through my back, and then nothing. It was as if it was perfectly okay to be just standing there. I didn't feel afraid." She paused and considered again what happened that day. "I've read about the effect the Imperius Curse has on its victims, and the symptoms match. I felt strangely satisfied, although I knew that something was amiss."

Dumbledore nodded again. "Continue, please. What happened next?"

"There was a man. I didn't see him clearly. I think he put a kind of concealment charm on himself. He took my trunk and then led me out of the station. We entered an alley a few blocks away. And the next thing I remember is the cell in that dungeon."

For a moment, she had the cell in front of her eyes. The high ceiling, the dim light, and the cold. It was distressing, to say the least. She shivered involuntarily. Madam Pomfrey took this as a sign to put a stopper to the interrogation. 

"Albus, as you can clearly see it upsets Miss Granger to relive those events. I strongly advise you to leave her a bit more time to recover." The nurse crossed her arms in front of her chest and stood next to Hermione's other side, holding the old wizard's gaze without so much as blinking.

"Please, Madam Pomfrey. I want to get it over with. I'm fine, really," Hermione said in a low voice. She sighed and reported what she knew of her kidnapper. When she came to the most disturbing part of her first day, she forced herself to stay calm. "I hadn't been there for long when he came back. He… I didn't even know he was there. Some kind of charm. I was completely unprepared for the attack. Somehow, my clothes were gone, and… it all happened very fast. I… I don't… I mean, I hadn't… He raped me. And then he told me to put my underclothes back on and be quiet."

Hermione looked up. But the headmaster was not, as she had expected, looking at her, but he studied Professor Snape's face. The Potions Master's gaze was transfixed upon the far wall of the Infirmary. He didn't blink, and he didn't seem to see anything. Hermione wondered if he was reliving some of his memories as a Death Eater. It surely wasn't pleasant. She didn't even want to know in which dark place in his memory he was at the moment. 

When she looked back at the headmaster, he was fiddling with his bag of lemon drops. He silently offered her some, but she declined. She went through the three days of torture and rape, her voice strangely impersonal. She didn't want to think about it. 

When she finished her report, Dumbledore's eyes hadn't completely lost their twinkle, but the sadness was undoubtedly present. "Miss Granger, I am deeply and genuinely sorry that we didn't have the chance to free you sooner."

Professor Snape seemed to snap out of his trance and snorted. "If I may remind you, Albus, you didn't so much as lift a finger to rescue her. In fact, you didn't even know she was missing."

Hermione frowned. That was strange. Not only did Professor Snape talk back to the headmaster in such an disrespectful manner, but also did he so in front of a student. And what he had said… That couldn't possibly be true. Albus Dumbledore not knowing… That was outright impossible. And Harry and Ron… They would've gone after her, no matter what. 

Confused, she turned towards the headmaster. 

Albus Dumbledore sighed deeply and Hermione could see in his gaze that Professor Snape hadn't been lying. Not that she'd expected him to. She'd always found he was very honest (except for his spying business), sometimes even up to the point of cruel blatancy. 

"Miss Granger, I'm afraid I have to apologise for that, too. Professor Snape is right in saying that we, that is the staff members as well as the students, didn't know that you had been taken." Hermione opened her mouth to ask why, but Dumbledore raised a hand to silence her. "I understand that this might disturb you-" (another snort from Professor Snape) "-but we didn't have a reason to be suspicious of your absence. You see, at the first day of term I received an owl from yourself. You stated that you father had had an accident while driving you to the station, and that you would arrive at a later point. I responded to your letter immediately. I wished your father luck and offered to treat his injuries magically. I also offered you as much time as you wanted – considering your regularly high marks not very surprisingly. You replied that your parents rather had your father treated the Muggle way, and that you would return within the next week. You also asked me to tell Misters Weasley and Potter not to worry. Professor McGonagall confirmed me that it was indeed your handwriting on the letters."

Hermione didn't know what to say. All she could think was that they wouldn't have come. They wouldn't have rescued her. The reasonable analytical part of her brain told her that they'd been tricked into believing her safe at home, but the irrational part screamed betrayal and disappointment. Finally, she managed a weak "Oh!"

Silence settled once again. Madam Pomfrey looked miserable, while Dumbledore proceeded to eat lemon drops. Professor Snape was staring at the wall once again. Hermione began to wonder if there was an extraordinarily ugly spot on it. She couldn't see it from her position on the bed. Suddenly, Professor Snape rose. Hermione jumped slightly. 

"Well, if that's all, Albus. Poppy, Miss Granger," he said and wanted to leave. 

"Severus!" the headmaster called, making Professor Snape stop in mid-step. "I was planning to pay you a visit later, but since you are here… I would like to know how you found out that Miss Granger was indeed missing. And I think that Miss Granger would like to know that, too."

Professor Snape looked decidedly uncomfortable know. As if he was accused of something, only that Hermione couldn't think of what. 

After a short pause, he came back to her bed and sat back down. "I didn't know it was her who was missing. I had a meeting that night with some Death Eaters. I was supposed to supply them with Ability Enhancing Potion, as you well know, Albus. When I waited for the Dark Lord to dismiss us, I heard a few rumours about a kidnapped Hogwarts student. Muggle-born. Female. I couldn't think of anyone who was missing. I hoped that whoever it was had only been captured that evening, and was still relatively unharmed. You know that those meetings can last half the night. However, no one seemed to know much. Only that a few people – I don't even know who – got hold of a student and wanted to torture her. And then dispose of her body in front of the gates – as a warning and a reminder." Professor Snape looked positively sick by now. Hermione wasn't feeling to well, either. They had planned to kill her and expose her body. She shivered. 

"I subtly asked around and someone wanted to know that the student was kept in an isolated manor somewhere in Cornwall. It had once belonged to a Muggle who died a few years later. No one was there to inherit it, and the Dark Lord made it unplottable to everyone without a Mark. He used it as… It's basically a prison. But as far as I know, no one was supposed to be there.

"Once the meeting was over, I Apparated there. I watched it for several hours, and cast a few charms to survey the other entrances. There didn't seem to be anyone there. But suddenly, a man Apparated into the front garden. I didn't recognize him. I Stunned him and tied him up. He told me about a girl in the dungeons. I left him in a closet. 

"By then it was nearly morning. I went to the dungeons and found Miss Granger. At first, she didn't respond to her name, but once she was fully awake, she told me that there were two more capturers. Due to the Anti-Apparition Spells on the house itself, we had to get outside to Apparate.

"Once outside, I Apparated us to the gates, and brought her here through the back entrance near the greenhouses." Professor Snape ended his report and fished for something inside his cloak pocket. He pulled out a book and handed it over to the headmaster. "I found this with the man I Stunned. He seemed to be afraid that I might take it from him, so I did."

Dumbledore nodded and took the book. He inspected it carefully and finally cast a few spells to make sure it wasn't dangerous. It was then that Hermione got a glance at the book's front. 

"I know that book," she said. "It's _Future Confounded – A Guide to 20th Century Prophecies_. I read it as a preparation to Divination in my third year. A great load of rubbish, in my opinion. Most of those so-called prophecies made people do the stupidest things, leading to havoc and misery. The only interesting bit was the last chapter, _Mysterious Prophecies – Or: What the Future Holds_. The prophecies in there are much older, and no one has been able to say what they mean. It's still rubbish, in my opinion, but at least it's entertaining. It didn't help me at all in Divination."

Pensively, the headmaster studied the book in his hands. "Then why would a Death Eater want to keep someone else from seeing it?" he muttered to himself. Professor Snape regarded him shortly and said, "Maybe it was of sentimental value." 

Hermione chose to ignore the remark and said, "Or it was something about that special edition or copy of the book. Maybe it's got a letter or something in invisible ink on a blank page or something."

"I already checked it for spells, charms and bewitchments. I can assure you it is not in any way entangled with magic – except for the cover," Professor Snape said impatiently. "Can I go now, Albus?"

The headmaster didn't hear him. He was reading the last chapter of the book and seemed to be completely absorbed. Hermione could tell that Professor Snape was trying not to roll his eyes. 

"Albus? I have a few potions to tend to."

"Hm?" Dumbledore looked up, pocketed the book and stood up. "Of course, Severus. If anything else comes to your mind, contact me." 

Professor Snape nodded, and left, his black robe billowing behind him. Dumbledore nodded to Madam Pomfrey, said, "I hope you get well soon, Miss Granger", and excused himself. 

When they were along, Madam Pomfrey asked if Hermione needed anything, but she just wanted to be alone and think. 

***

Hermione finally got up later that day and took another shower. She then dressed in bluejeans and a red jumper, waiting for Harry and Ron to pick her up. Madam Pomfrey had told her that her friends would come and take her to Gryffindor Tower before dinner. 

Soon enough, the headmaster walked in, Harry and Ron following him closely. As soon as they saw her, Ron started fidgeting and Harry looked nervous. Hermione sighed inwardly. Those two would surely make a fuss for a while before they could all go back to normal. She appreciated it that they didn't pretend nothing had happened, but she'd much rather not think about anything that happened in the last week. If they would just act like always…

"Miss Granger?" Albus Dumbledore stood beside her bed. She wondered briefly why he was here again. Surely he couldn't have more questions. She had answered absolutely _every_ detail. 

Much to her dislike, actually. 

"Yes?"

"Misters Potter and Weasley have assured me that they'd treat this business with utmost privacy, and they are now here to see you back to your dormitory," he said solemnly. She raised her eyebrows. Well she knew already that Harry and Ron could keep something private. And that they were here to escort her back – that much was obvious, even without Madam Pomfrey earlier notice. So why _exactly_ was Albus Dumbledore back here?

"But before you can finally leave the Infirmary, I have another matter to discuss with you. The three of you, that is."

Ah, that was it. More 'battle talk', as she called it. Every time Albus Dumbledore had this particular spark in his eyes she knew it was about the Order. Ever since the end of their fourth year they'd known about the Order of the Phoenix. Usually, the headmaster only let them know the basics. 

Harry and Ron settled down on chairs beside her bed, and she could see that both of them were eager to talk to her alone, without Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore or anyone else near. Well, they'd have to wait, wouldn't they?

"I am well aware that you are mostly better informed than you should be," Dumbledore started. Hermione thought back to times of Extendable Ears and exchanged a glance with Harry and Ron, who had obviously been thinking along the same lines. "And as all of you are of age in the wizarding world, the next meeting will decide whether you should be fully introduced to the Order." He raised a hand when Harry wanted to speak and continued uninterrupted. "I cannot promise you that you will be invited to join the Order as that is not my decision alone, but your presence will be required. The meeting will be held next Friday evening. I will inform you of the exact place – but I think we will either Apparate or use a Portkey."

Silence settled. Hermione thought about the promising words. Harry and Ron would probably be eager to join the Order. She wasn't too keen on listening to their babbling about it all the time until next Friday, but it would be a distraction. As for herself, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to be active in the Order. She had tasted the bitter side of battle, and it hadn't been nice. Maybe it would be safer to just stay out of the way. 

A snort nearly escaped her. As if she'd ever be able to stand aside and not help! She couldn't not do something. She was, after all, Hermione Granger. Bookworm no 1, supplier of all kinds of knowledge and support, friend of the Boy Who Lived. She had to help, even if it would cost her. She couldn't be distracted by her own fear. 

'How very Gryffindor,' a voice in her head said. 'Huh, where did that come from?' she asked herself, but then shrugged mentally. It _was_ a Gryffindor sentiment, after all.  

Dumbledore popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth and offered them some. They declined, and Hermione wondered whether anyone had ever accepted his sweets. She couldn't remember one person ever taking sweets from the headmaster. "Well then," he finally said, "I have other matters to attend. I'm sure I'll see you at dinner, Miss Granger. Mister Potter, Mister Weasley." Dumbledore bowed his head slightly and glided over to the doors. He paused and turned around. "Oh, and on your way back I would avoid the right hand corridor on the fourth floor. Mister Filch informed me this morning that Peeves has set up a little trap up there. Apparently a fifth year Ravenclaw got stuck in it already. We haven't managed to get her out yet, and we are not sure how many there are still." With another twinkle, he was gone. 

Now the silence was a little awkward, Hermione mused. So she grabbed the books on the nightstand and stood up. "Come on, then," she said, "I want to unpack my things before dinner." She had thought about this, and had come to the solution that her trunk must have been brought up to her dormitory. 

Harry and Ron followed her out of the Infirmary, taking her into their middle. They were careful not to touch her, but still emit a sense of protection. She smiled slightly and started talking about school. Soon, the awkwardness had passed and Harry and Ron were teasing her about school while she tried to defend herself, they talked about Quidditch and she pretended to listen, they told her that Parvati had finally made a move towards Dean, and that Malfoy was still his old arrogant self. 

She really had the feeling that she could go back to normal. 

***

Hermione couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, but after two hours of lying awake, she still couldn't sleep. She'd tried meditation, and other relaxing exercises. She'd tried counting sheep, goats and fluffy bunny rabbits, but she was still awake. She'd got a house elf to bring her warm milk with honey (her mum always said it would work – but it didn't). 

Finally, she sighed and pushed away the curtains. She got up and went to the bathroom, careful not to wake Lavender and Parvati. Her roommates had been surprisingly easy to endure today. Both had come up before dinner, asking if her father was alright again. She's made up a short story of a successful operation and they'd left her in peace. Everyone else had seen that she was back at school at dinner. The Parvati and Lavender News Agency had obviously done a perfect job, an done one asked if her father was better. 'Yep. Trust them to spread the word faster than you can actually say "word",' Hermione thought. 

She went back to her bed, but since she was wide awake, she simply put on her slippers and a robe and went down into the Common Room. 

A fire was still glowing in the hearth, so she walked over and sat down in an armchair. 

The rest of the day had been pleasant. After dinner, Harry and Ron had steered her back to the Common Room, where she had told them that she wanted to read some more for next day's classes. Ron had rolled his eyes, and Harry had asked for a game of chess. She'd asked if they'd already done all the homework. Ron had rolled his eyes once more and said, "Yes, _mum_. I've even made up something for Divination." Which led her to huff and call Divination a whole lot of crap. 

She was somewhat surprised that she wasn't feeling bad. In fact, she wasn't really feeling anything. It was somehow like being under the Imperius. She knew that she should be upset in some way or another, but all she felt was… indifferent. Well, she was glad to be back at Hogwarts, and with Harry and Ron. And there was something else she couldn't quite place. But apart from that she was oddly indifferent. Almost removed from the Hermione that had been kidnapped. Every time she thought about it, it was as if she were thinking about someone else. It didn't feel like it had happened to her. Even the pain was completely gone. She supposed that she was still in shock and would sooner or later crack. But the only thing she had to remember now was not to expose her bare back to Lavender and Parvati when she changed into her nightclothes, considering that she still had a large burn mark across it. 

Lavender, Parvati, talks about Divination… She suddenly remembered Dumbledore's fascination with the book Professor Snape had found with the kidnapper. _Future Confounded_.  What was it that made the book so special, she wondered. Professor Snape checked it for spells and hexes, so it must've been the contents. She tried to remember what section of the book he had read, and thought it had been the last chapter. She made a mental note to check it out from the library. 

A sudden noise from the fire made her jump. Cautiously, she turned around, but found it had only been a chunk of wood shifting its position. Hermione sighed and went over to the portrait hole. She wouldn't be able sleep, and she had lessons next day. It was only reasonable to go to Madam Pomfrey and ask for a mild sleeping potion. And if any of the teachers would see her out of bed after curfew, well, they could hardly punish her now, could they?

"After all, my head could hurt," she murmured to herself. "And no one could prevent me to go to the school nurse for a pain-reliever…"

Walking through the dark corridors and archways, she pulled her robe tighter around her and accelerated her steps. It wouldn't do to be out in the castle longer than necessary, she tried to calm herself. Surely she wasn't afraid alone in the dark. 

She grabbed for her wand – intending to cast a Lumos – and noticed that she'd forgotten it, lying on her bedside table. She sighed again, hugged herself and went on. When she finally reached the wooden doors to the Infirmary, she was relieved despite herself. 

"Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione called. She didn't know if the nurse slept near the Infirmary. Maybe she wouldn't even hear her. But as soon as the second "Madam Pomfrey?" had left her lips, a door was opened and a slightly sleepy Madam Pomfrey stood in the room, holding a lit wand, an auburn cloak hastily thrown around her shoulders. 

"Miss Granger?" Madam Pomfrey came nearer. "Are you alright? Do you feel dizzy, or unwell?" Her voice held now a worried tone. 

"No, I'm fine," Hermione assured her. "It's just that I can't sleep, and since I've got classes tomorrow, I thought maybe you had some sleeping potion for me."

"Oh. Why, yes. Of course, Miss Granger. I'll get it." She turned around and walked over to a cupboard. She took a vial out of the cupboard, a clear purple liquid inside. She handed the vial over to Hermione. "Here, Miss Granger. Take it once you are back in bed, all in once."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey. Good night."

"Miss Granger, do you want me to escort you back?"

"No, that won't be necessary. I think I still know the way," she said, trying to make the nurse laugh, but Madam Pomfrey just looked at her and nodded. "Good night, Miss Granger."

Then she was back in the corridor and in the dark. 

"Miss Granger!" She froze and looked up, a chill running down her spine. She was standing in a second floor corridor, not far from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. She turned around to face her Professor, and wondered briefly why she was so surprised to meet him on her way back. It was well known that Snape patrolled the corridors at night, always trying to catch some troublemakers. 

"Yes, Professor?"

"What, for the love of Merlin, are you doing out of Gryffindor Tower at this time of the night?" She couldn't quite place the sentiments that accompanied the question. He was angry, that's for sure. But he also seemed to be.. worried? Snape? Because of her? Surely not. 

"Well?"

She blinked. "I was at the Infirmary. For a sleeping potion," she said, feeling the urge to defend herself. She eyed Snape warily. He was, of course, taller than her, and stood looming against the light emitting from his wand. 

"Then why are you walking around in complete darkness?" 

"I… I forgot my wand, sir," she answered, and added, "I didn't think I would need it."

"You didn't think, obviously." Snape's voice was back to its silky self, an even better disguise for insults and sharp comments than his cold, icy voice. At least in her opinion. 

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't sleep, and so I thought…"

"Yes, I rather thought you'd need the _sleeping_ potion because you weren't able to sleep," Professor Snape cut her off. He made her sound awfully stupid, and she didn't like it one bit.

But before she could reply, Professor Snape spoke again. "I'll escort you back to your Common Room."

"Thank you, Professor," she said, still wondering why Snape was so nice to her. But then again, he was probably only lenient because he knew what those people had done to her. 

Hastily, she ran to catch up with Snape, who – with his longer legs and naturally quicker pace – was already half-way down the corridor. Silently, they went back to Gryffindor Tower, and Hermione was thankful for his presence, although she would never admit it. 

They reached the portrait of the fat lady, and Hermione – after a mumbled "Good night, Professor" – went inside. 

Before she fell asleep upon drinking the potion, she briefly thought back to the encounter with Professor Snape, and realised he hadn't even taken points from Gryffindor. 

End Chapter Two

A/N: Sorry about the delay, folks. I had an intense week with a weekend workshop (yes, and it was Valentine's Day, too), a Latin test this morning (I think it did quite well) and a few problems with my bank account (but that's settled now). As always, I hope you liked the new chapter, and keep reviewing! J Oh, and this chapter doesn't have a title yet (I couldn't think of one… so if any of you has an idea – tell me), so it's just 'chapter two'. The usual disclaimers apply, of course. It's not mine, and sadly never will be. 

Oh, and tahnks for the reviews… I love reviews (yes, that was a not-so-veiled attempt to get you press the review button… so do it!). And this won't be the usual H/C story, just so you know. They won't develop a relationship just because he happened to be the one who saved her. Now all I have to do is keep the fluff away and make this dark and gloomy (I probably won't last into chapter six with that attitude, but I'll try). 

~ donotsrock


	3. Chapter Three

A/N: This is the edited version of Chapter Three. Many many thanks go to my beta, **Corazon**, for her comments and suggestions that helped to improve this story. Chocolate Frogs for you, Corazon!

Chapter Three

It took Hermione longer than she thought to find the time for _Future Confounded_. In addition to her classes, she had an abundant amount of homework.  Her usual studies aside, Harry and Ron always found a way to keep her occupied. Her insomnia had vanished after one day of classes, allowing her to get her mind off the past events by studying and playing exploding snap in the common room. In fact, she'd never slept better.

On Friday morning, after a double class of Potions, she went to the library. Madam Pince greeted her with considerably more warmth than the usual, and Hermione had no difficulties in finding the book she wanted.

The last chapter of the book _Future Confounded_ really was the most interesting one. She was so engrossed in reading that she didn't even hear the bell announcing lunch.

Harry and Ron finally found her in the far corner of the library, still translating some of the Latin prophecies. They soon realised that Hermione was in a 'do not disturb – I'm studying' mood, so they just told her that Dumbledore would meet them in the Entrance Hall after dinner to take them to the Order meeting. Hermione waved a hand dismissively, and was left alone again.

One prophecy was a bit ambiguous with the meaning, and she had trouble translating it, but when she finished, it wasn't the ambiguity that worried her, it was the content. She paled considerably when she re-read the prophecy again:

The boy will defeat the Dark Lord… a woman by his side. And she will be a mother, her virginity taken by the father. The blood of the mother and the blood of the child – born from Light and Darkness – will weaken the Dark Lord, and the Light will triumph…

Hermione swallowed. This couldn't possibly mean what she thought it might mean, but it would explain Dumbledore's strange glances in her direction, and his fascination with that chapter of _Future Confounded_. She shook her head. No, it couldn't be true. They would have told her. Dumbledore would… not have told her. Dumbledore wouldn't bother to tell her anything if he didn't want her to know. He had proven that on various occasions in the past few years when Harry was concerned.

Well, she certainly wouldn't wait for Dumbledore to tell her. She'd just walk up to him and ask and probably make a complete fool out of herself in the process. What if the prophecy wasn't about her at all? What if Dumbledore was just fascinated with it because he was a strange old wizard who ate Muggle sweets and wore purple cloaks?

She decided to wait for the Order meeting to pass, and re-think the whole prophecy thing in the morning.

Dinner had been considerably quiet. Harry and Ron seemed to be nervous because of the Order meeting, and Hermione wanted to simply think about the prophecy. She made another attempt to translate the prophecy, but it wouldn't make sense. She finally gave up and concentrated on the meeting.

Later she, Harry and Ron waited in the Entrance Hall for Professor Dumbledore. When the Headmaster finally arrived, he was in company of Professor Snape.

"Oh, _no_!" Ron sighed next to her. "Not the greasy git!"

Harry eyed Snape with contempt, but didn't say anything.

"If you would follow me to my office?" Dumbledore asked, but everyone clearly heard the order behind the words.

Hermione quickly exchanged a look with Harry and shrugged. She didn't know why they went to the Headmaster's office. She thought they would take a Portkey out of the castle but of course, they could hardly take a Portkey in the middle of the Entrance Hall, with students lounging around to see them.

On their way to Dumbledore's office, various students shot them sympathetic glances. Everyone knew that the trio tended to get into trouble often enough and assumed that now was no exception.

When they were all inside Dumbledore's office, the Headmaster turned around. "There is a secret passageway in my office that will lead us into the dungeons." Dumbledore opened a door in the wall and stepped through, obviously wanting them to follow him. Harry and Ron followed Dumbledore, and Snape gestured for her to precede him. Then they were all inside the narrow passage, going toward the stairs that led downwards, as Dumbledore's wand illuminated the corridor.

"We will end up in the dungeons, near a side entrance of the castle. From there it's only a short distance to the Forest."

They walked mostly in silence; everyone seemed to be preoccupied in thought. Outside, it wasn't very dark yet, and Hermione saw why Dumbledore had chosen this particular entrance. It was the same one that Snape had used to get her into the castle, if she remembered correctly, and as far as she knew, no one used it any more. In fact, only the teachers knew about it, and it was guarded by high walls and bushes. No one would be able to see them from the castle.

Once inside the Forest, memories from the previous activities over the years came flooding into her mind, temporarily replacing the worries about the prophecy. Her detention in first year, Harry's and her travel back in time to save Buckbeak, and most of all her fifth year with Grawp, Hagrid's "little" brother, and the centaurs.

When they reached the Apparition spot and were greeted by an old wizard. He wore black robes and had silver-grey hair. He seemed to be about sixty years old, and Hermione thought she remembered him as the bookshop owner from Hogsmeade.

"Ah, Boxley, here already? Good." Dumbledore shook the man's hand. Professor Snape and Boxley only nodded curtly as Dumbledore introduced them.

"Well, you know the drill, Boxley. Each of us takes one of the students with us. That isn't a problem, is it?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, and Hermione had the impression that the Headmaster wouldn't allow any problems to get in his way.

"Of course not, Albus. I'll take Mr Weasley, shall I?" Before Dumbledore could reply, Boxley grabbed Ron's hand and Apparated with a _pop!_ while Ron still looked as if he had no clue as to what was going on.

"Mister Potter?"

Harry extended his hand to Dumbledore, and soon they were gone, too. Which left Hermione with Professor Snape.

She hesitantly reached out, and to her surprise Snape took her hand without further remark. His hand was warm and dry. She didn't know why that surprised her so much. She surely hadn't expected it to be cold, but… he _was_ Snape.

Instantly, he Apparated. She was overwhelmed by a slightly disorientating feeling of nausea. Of course they had all learned how to Apparate, and she had taken the test last year, two days after her seventeenth birthday, but she wasn't really used to it. Since you couldn't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds, she hadn't had much practice since then and Apparating without a clear place to go was always risky, so being tugged along by Snape wasn't the worst that could happen. It was certainly better than splinching herself.

When she re-opened her eyes, they were in an abandoned factory. She blinked several times. _Definitely a factory_.

"Where –"

"We're only here to use a Portkey," Snape interrupted her. Upon her questioning glance, he continued, "It's a practice Dumbledore learned from the Dark Lord." Snape smiled wryly.

"Whenever the Dark Lord summons us, we Apparate to a certain place. It's always the same location, and every Death Eater has his own. From there, we take a Portkey that has been placed in the location previously. That way he is reassured that no one knows the location to  his lair."

"So that no one can tell…" she whispered.

"Exactly. Dumbledore found it a reliable system." Snape bent down to an empty coke can.

"This is our Portkey, I suppose." He reached out and touched the can. Hermione wanted to yell that he'd forgotten that she needed to touch the Portkey as well, when suddenly the nauseating feeling was back, this time as the effect of a Portkey. She realised that they'd been holding hands the whole time.

The next thing she knew was that they ended up in a cellar. It had a concrete floor and stone walls. It was cold and clammy, and this time she was glad when Snape didn't instantly let go of her hand. He tossed the Portkey onto a pile of rubbish that Hermione suspected to be Portkeys as well.

Then the door opened, and Snape dropped her hand. A short witch with huge glasses and chin-long red hair stepped in.

"Snape," said the witch who had opened the door. "You two are the last. Hurry up."

Hermione and Snape followed the witch up a narrow staircase into a large kitchen. There were about eight wizards in the kitchen, each of them with a mug of tea (spiked with rum, she suspected) in front of them. As soon as they arrived, the idle chatter died away and they were greeted with silence. Hermione felt uncomfortable.

"Well, now that you're here, I suppose we can start," said one of the wizards, a tall man in black robes who was standing in the doorway to another room. "Let's go upstairs."

A few minutes later, Hermione followed the tall wizard into the spacious room in the second floor. Professor Snape behind her brushed accidentally against her back, and she cringed unintentionally. But before she could start to think about 'that time', Harry and Ron had spotted her and pulled her into the room.

The room was furnished with various armchairs and sofas, all facing a wall where Dumbledore had placed one armchair to face the others (his own, she presumed). Harry and Ron pulled her down onto a sofa in the last row and started talking rapidly. They couldn't have got there much sooner than Snape and herself, but seemed to know everyone by profession already.

"See that man over there, in the yellow cloak? He's a reporter for _Sorcerer's Academic_," Harry said, pointing at a man with long shiny hair and a moustache.

"And that witch over there is a former Obliviator," Ron said to her left. A few minutes later, just before Dumbledore finally ended his discussion with one member of the Order (a curse breaker, according to Ron and Harry) and called for silence, she knew that there were medi-witches and wizards, Squibs, a Floo Regulation Network employee, a witch from the Owl Post Office, several researchers and ministry workers as well as one or two foreign countries diplomats. All in all, she was extremely impressed.

In the next two hours, Hermione learned more about the Order and its working methods than she ever imagined. She could tell that Harry and Ron were bored, but she found it very interesting to see a secret organisation at work. Dumbledore called several people up to the front for reports, and she was surprised that he didn't mention her kidnapping once. Perhaps he left that for a smaller circle.

When she was finally starting to get tired, Dumbledore rose from his seat and closed the meeting. All the witches and wizards left, and after another ten minutes, only the Headmaster, Professor Snape, Harry, Ron and Hermione were left.

"I suggest we all go down to the kitchen while we wait for the others to arrive," Dumbledore said, and Hermione raised an eyebrow. So he had been saving her story for a smaller circle. She assumed that at least one of the Weasleys (Bill or Arthur), Remus Lupin and maybe Tonks and Moody would be expected for that second meeting. Ron and Harry had – as usual – not a clue.

They settled down in the kitchens, and soon everyone she had imagined would turn up _did_ turn up.

Dumbledore gave a brief summary of what had happened, and Hermione felt uncomfortable once more. It was her life after all. She was just glad that Molly Weasley wasn't there. She wasn't sure whether she could take motherly hugs and comfort right now.

Professor Snape repeated how he had found her.

Then everyone wondered and guessed who had kidnapped her. Hermione figured that now was as good a time as ever to bring up the prophecy, and took out _Future Confounded_. She thought she'd seen a twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes upon seeing the book, but she wasn't sure.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to say something?" Dumbledore said mildly.

"Yes," she said. "This is the book, well, a copy of the book that Professor Snape took from one of my kidnappers. Since Professor Dumbledore seemed outright fascinated with it, I signed it out of the library. I translated various prophecies, and one of them seems to be… about Harry." She paused. "And me."

Dumbledore slowly nodded his head. "You mean the one about the mother and the child and their blood?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"What prophecy?" Harry asked, looking confused. Hermione looked around and realised that Dumbledore was the only one who knew what she was talking about, so she recited the prophecy. A stunned silence followed.

"But…" That was Remus Lupin. "You're not pregnant, are you?" He looked worried.

Hermione shook her head. "No!"

"Then how can the prophecy mean you?"

"That, Remus," said Dumbledore, "is one of the things why I called you all in today." He took a sip of tea and placed the mug on the table. "Would you care to enlighten them, Miss Granger? See as you already brought up the topic before I had the chance to do so."

Hermione reddened a bit, but nodded. "Since the… kidnappers had this book, I assume that they know about the prophecy, too. And not just any pregnant woman would give her blood to help Harry, so it must be someone close to him, me for example. They obviously agreed, too, so they kidnapped me to prevent me from becoming pregnant."

"But – that's…" Lupin said again, not sure how to phrase his thoughts. "How?"

"The prophecy says _'And she will be a mother, her virginity taken by the father'_. That implies that the prophecy can only be fulfilled if the father of my child is the one who –" (she stumbled slightly before she spoke the words) "-took my virginity. The kidnapper. And that's not going to happen, thus the prophecy won't be fulfilled and I won't be able to help Harry defeat You-know-who." She looked up to Lupin, who had a thoughtful expression on his face.

Dumbledore finally said, "I couldn't have said it better, Miss Granger. I can see why I wanted you in the Order."

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said dryly. Of course it was much more important to tell her that instead of offering further explanations, she thought sarcastically.

"Now that you all have something to think about, let me wish you a good night. We'll meet again next Friday."

He just dismissed them? Didn't he at least want to try and explain a few things? What should they do now? Was it that important to fulfil this prophecy, or was it only speculation? She wanted some answers, but apparently, she wasn't about to get them.

Dumbledore quickly stood up and avoided her gaze. "I think it would be best to arrive back at Hogwarts at different times," he said. "Mister Weasley, you might take this Portkey; it will take you to my office immediately. Mister Potter and I will take a Portkey and then Apparate to Hogsmeade and walk back." With a nod, Ron took the Portkey and vanished, closely followed by Harry and Dumbledore.

Hermione turned back to Professor Snape. He was pale, but she didn't say anything – partly because he was always pale, and partly because she wouldn't want to lose house points for insolence. "Professor?" she asked finally. "Are you ready to go back?"

Professor Snape jumped slightly and his unfocussed gaze rested on her briefly. He then nodded his head slightly and stood up.

He extended his hand and they Apparated back to the Forest. Neither of them seemed to notice that it was unnecessary to hold hands – Hermione knew perfectly well how to Apparate to the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione was glad that the next day was Saturday. Again, she couldn't sleep. It was well past midnight, so it was – strictly speaking – Saturday already. Whatever.

She sighed and rested her head against her bed's headboard. Of course she could go to Madam Pomfrey and ask for more of that sleeping potion, but the nurse would probably worry, and ask how she felt, and if she wanted to talk. Hermione didn't feel she could handle it. Besides, it _was_ Saturday. She didn't have classes, so what it if she stayed up a bit longer than usual?

She sighed again. 'Sleep,' she commanded her body, but it didn't comply. She shook her head. 'Might as well get a little work done,' she mused and got out of bed. Carefully, she opened the trunk at the end of her bed and took out a fresh roll of parchment, an ink well and quills, then she considered which essay she should write. Not Arithmancy. She wanted that essay to be perfect, and she didn't trust herself to be perfect in the dead of the night. (Of course she wanted all her essays to be perfect, but… Arithmancy was still her favourite subject.) So it was History of Magic then. Binns had assigned them one foot of parchment about the Brighton Werewolf Trials of 1879 – highly interesting, of course, but Binns had managed to tire even Hermione in his class on Wednesday morning. She considered going down to the common room to write (she'd have actual tables) but decided to stay upstairs and settle down on her bed again (much more comfortable). She pulled the curtains closed and cast a weak Lumos. This way, the light would be bright enough to read and write, but it wouldn't disturb Parvati and Lavender. After all, it was the middle of the night.

She had already eight and a half inches done when she needed her History of Magic textbook for a reference. She bent over to read the last paragraph again when the stack of quills went spiralling off her bed. She cursed slightly. Putting her things in her hands, she clumsily leaned over to pick up the quills when she lost balance and fell out of the bed. She lay silently for a few moments, trying to even out her breathing and checking if she'd woken the other two girls. Hearing the deep steady breathing coming from their direction, she hadn't. 

_'Well, at least I can pick up the quills rather comfortable now,'_ she thought dryly, and gathered up the feathers. Suddenly, something shiny caught her attention. She pushed the remaining quills aside and looked closer at the shiny item. It was glittering in the light, and when she turned her head, she could see that it was silver. _A necklace?_ She picked it up. It was definitely a necklace, but the pendant wasn't a pendant. It was a ring. '_Silver_', she thought, with a bright blue stone embedded in the metal. She wondered how that came to lie under her bed. It wasn't hers, and she hadn't seen it with Parvati or Lavender either. She shrugged and put it down on her bedside table. She'd asked them tomorrow ('Today,' she reminded herself).

Soon, she went back to bed and finished the essay before falling into a light slumber.

Hermione woke from a punch in the stomach. Her eyes flew open with shock, and she was upright in bed before she realised that it had been Parvati's old teddy bear, thrown from across the room. Hermione tried to slow her breathing and not let it show how fast her heart was beating. She was sure that Lavender and Parvati would ask where that loud, pumping sound came from any minute now.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Do you want to get up some time today, or do you want to sleep until tomorrow?" Lavender asked, laughing.

"Huh?" Hermione bent over and checked her watch. It was after lunch already. She got up and pulled a pair of jeans and a t-shirt out of the wardrobe.

"Your two shadows are waiting downstairs," Parvati said, sitting down on Hermione's bed. "That's why I woke you. Sorry if I startled you with Mr Toodles here." She tossed the bear back onto her own bed. "Hey, you found your necklace!" Parvati picked up the silver necklace with the ring. "Where did you find it? We must have searched for ages last year!"

Confused, Hermione frowned. "My necklace?"

Lavender and Parvati exchanged a look. Then Parvati turned and shot her a glance that said 'And you want to be the brightest student at Hogwarts?' while Lavender asked, "Hermione, are you sure you didn't sniff that Forgetfulness Potion in class yesterday?"

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said and sighed. "I guess I'm still a bit, um, off, you know. With what happened to my dad and all…"

Parvati and Lavender exchanged another look, and then Parvati dropped the necklace into Hermione's outstretched hand. "Thanks," she said. "I'd better go down. Wouldn't want to let Harry and Ron wait forever…"

Deep in thought, Hermione went down into the Common Room where Ron and Harry were sitting near the fire. Apart from that, the Common Room was nearly deserted.

"Morning."

"Hullo, 'Mione," Harry said smiling. Ron looked up, too, and asked, "Where have you been? We nearly missed breakfast because we were waiting for you!"

Hermione couldn't quite suppress a smile. "Sorry, Ron. But I stayed up a bit longer to finish my History of Magic essay, and I guess it was a little late, so…"

"It's okay, Hermione. Don't mind Ron," Harry said, and put on his cloak. "Are you ready?"

Hermione frowned. "Um. What for?"

"Hogsmeade. That's where everyone is. We were lucky that Parvati and Lavender want to spend the afternoon with Professor Trelawney so they had to be back early. Otherwise you'd still be asleep," Ron sounded accusingly. He put on his cloak as well. "So, are you ready?"

"I'm sorry, Harry, Ron, but I don't think I'll come with you." She sat down on the sofa. "I… I somehow feel safer in the castle. I don't think I'm ready to go out yet."

Ron's face fell, and Harry sat back down beside her. "That's okay, 'Mione. Really. We'll stay with you, if you want," he said, awkwardly patting her arm.

Ron sat down on her other side and nodded. "Yeah. We'll stay if you want us to," he repeated.

"No." She shook her head. "You two go to Hogsmeade and bring me chocolate and a few bottles of Butterbeer. You don't have to stay. It's okay. I wanted to go to the library anyway."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Harry. Now go."

The three of them rose and headed out of the Common Room. While Harry and Ron went down to the Entrance Hall, Hermione decided to make a stop at the kitchens and then head for the library.

It was frustrating. She couldn't come up with an alternative. She'd read through every divination book and so far only managed to confirm her opinion about the subject. The percentage of real prophecies was extremely low, and from _Divination Facts – Real Prophecies of Ancient Times_ she'd learned that only five or six prophecies of the hundreds made each year were actual prophecies. Everything else was just basically rubbish. Of course, there were these déjà-vu-like flashbacks people sometimes had, but since they occurred mostly within seconds before the events take place, they are not counted as prophecies, but as instinct or, as Radomila Ruffle, author of _A Critical View on Divination_, puts it, 'good guesses.'

Hermione sighed and closed the book. She wouldn't find anything in those Divination books. She leaned back in her chair and let her gaze wander over the rows of books while stretching a bit. Her neck was a little sore, so she stood up and rolled her head from one side to the other to relax the tense muscles. From her new position, she could see the lowest row of books, and her gaze fell upon a heavy tome. The title was _Cassandra – The Downfall of Troy_. Hermione frowned. 'Cassandra?' she thought. 'Wasn't that a Seer as well? Then why is that book in the History selection?'

Soon, Hermione realised that she'd searched in the wrong place. Many actual prophecies could be found in history books. Contemporary divination books were always a bit inaccurate because the future was still unclear – and prophecies couldn't be called real if there wasn't any proof. So history it was then.

After another two hours of reading, Hermione decided to call it a night. She was fairly exhausted and nearly starving. _'Hmm… Wait for dinner, or go down to the kitchens…'_ she considered both options and then left the library for the kitchens. She could still go to dinner with Harry and Ron, but she was hungry _now_, and it wouldn't do to wait another hour, but before she reached the corridor that lead to the kitchens, Professor Snape suddenly stood in front of her. "Miss Granger," he said, his voice void of expression. "Accompany me to my office."

"But Professor, I didn't-" she started, but was interrupted by him.

"I don't care what you did or didn't do, Miss Granger. I merely asked you to come to my office." He paused, and then continued in his silky voice, "But since you feel the need to defend yourself, maybe a deduction of house points would be appropriate?"

She shook her head. "No, sir."

"Very well, then. Follow me." And with that, he turned around and strode off towards his office.

Ignoring the gnawing feeling in her stomach, Hermione followed him, puzzled as to why he wanted to speak to her.

End Chapter Three


	4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four – Memories

With an imperious gesture of his wand, Professor Snape un-warded his office and opened the door. He gestured for her to enter and followed closely, murmuring a line of spells and charms once they were inside. Hermione thought she'd heard the words of a Silencing Charm and an Anti-Eavesdropping Spell. 

Nervously, she stood before his desk and waited for Professor Snape to say something. She still had no idea why she was here. She could only guess, and since she hadn't done anything wrong in his lessons since the beginning of the school year, it had to be about something else. But the only other thing she had in common with Professor Snape was the Order. And why would he want to talk to her about that, and in a place where they could be overheard, despite his little enchantments? 

"Sir?" she asked. "Why did you want to talk to me?" Nervously, she fiddled with the ring on her necklace. Over the course of the day, she'd discovered that she unconsciously played with the ring every time she was in thought – or nervous. 

Professor Snape's eyes followed the movement of her hand and a strange expression crossed his face. He cleared his throat and walked over to a shelf full of dusty books. "I think we'd better discuss this somewhere more private. Follow me, Miss Granger." Snape murmured a password and the bookshelf swung aside. Curiously, Hermione followed her professor through the narrow passage into a dark room. She couldn't see a thing. 

"Lux!" Snape's command made every candle in the room flicker to life, and the brightness blinded her for a moment. "Close the door and take a seat," he said and walked over to the fireplace. 

While Snape lit a fire, she closed the 'door' (that was actually another bookshelf) and looked around. She'd never been in any of the teachers' quarters, and could only wonder. This room clearly qualified as Snape's living room, although his work seemed to be over-present. Papers and quills everywhere, stacks of books and the newest potion magazines, a cauldron here and there and a few ingredients as well. And combined with the furniture (a low table, a sofa and two armchairs, and lots of bookshelves) and the few personal items she could see, the room looked strangely familiar and comfortable. Outright cosy, but she didn't want to use that word in connection with Snape. It sounded… just wrong.

"Well, do you want to stand there all day?" Snape's voice brought her back to reality. "Have a seat. Tea?"

She nodded and sat down on the sofa (she had to make room for herself first – too many books). While Snape prepared the tea, Hermione took one of the books she'd had to shove away to have some space to sit down from the stack and scanned the title. _Potions and Chemistry – Contradictory or Complementary? _– she had that one herself. Though she wouldn't have thought that Snape read books related to Muggle topics, let alone books that combined magic and Muggle science.

Snape placed a cup of tea in front of her and sat down opposite her. She looked for the sugar pot, but couldn't find it. "Sir, do you have any sugar?" 

"I already added two sugar cubes and a splash of milk."

Hermione wondered why her teacher would know how she liked her tea, when she noticed something else. The book in her hands had exactly the same spot as hers – an ink blotch that half-covered the letter 'd' in 'and.' She hastily turned the cover and read the name tag. Hermione Granger. That was her book!

"Professor? Why do you have my book here, and how do you know that I like my tea with two cubes of sugar and a little bit of milk? And why do you want to speak with me?" Hermione was confused. She had no idea what was going on, and she hated not knowing things. 

"I… You see, we…" Professor Snape shook his head. "This is very complicated, Miss Granger. I suppose I'd better show you – that would be easier for both of us." He stood up retrieved something from under the table. A Pensieve. An expression of concentration on his face, he tipped his temple with his wand and extracted several silver-shiny memories. Hermione had read about Pensieves, and Harry had described them, but she'd never actually seen one. It was highly interesting – or would be under different circumstances. 

Snape put the Pensieve on the table between them and sat back down. "Miss Granger, I want you to watch my memories. All of them. Then we can talk."

Hermione swallowed. Her throat was dry, and she was slightly worried. What was he going to show her? Something from his past? No – he said it concerned her. Maybe how he found her. She shuddered, but didn't want to seem weak, so she grabbed the Pensieve and dived head-first into the greyish liquid. 

A cold sensation rippled through her body, and her feet lost contact to the floor for a moment. Then she was standing in the Entrance Hall, just after dinner. Everyone else seemed to be still inside the Great Hall, and she could see Ron and Harry arguing about something. She saw herself, sitting opposite them, reading. She walked nearer and peered over her own shoulder. It was a strange feeling, to see herself like this. And she thought she remembered that day. Ron and Harry had been arguing about Quidditch, again. So she'd grabbed a book and darted off to the library after dinner – or so she thought. Suddenly, a note appeared on the plate, half-falling into the sauce. Memory-Hermione picked it up and unfolded it carefully. 

Tonight, 7 pm. Don't be late.  

She frowned. She didn't remember that note. Then why did Snape? She looked up and saw him leave the High Table and the Great Hall through the back door. 

An odd sensation in her stomach caused her to choke, and then she was pulled forward, her surroundings became a blurry swirl of lights and colours. Then it was over. She was back in his quarters. Only that her other self was there, too. So she was still in the Pensieve. 

Her other self made herself comfortable at the exact spot where she'd made room earlier for herself. She (the Memory-Hermione) curled up with a book (_Potions and Chemistry_, she saw). Then Professor Snape appeared. "You're early. The nettles aren't soaked in the potion yet. We can't continue until they took in as much of the potion as possible. And I've already prepared the feathers."

"Well, Severus ('Wait a bit,' the real Hermione thought. 'Since when is it 'Severus'?') I would like to test something. I've read that several Muggle chemicals act like the magical counterpart without any of the side effects. If that's true – if there is a substitute for say, essence of Ashwinder eggs, that could be worth considering. It might be less expensive to use Muggle materials in some potions."

Hermione drifted off. She heard Snape's reply and the following discussion, but she wasn't really listening. It was somehow logical and unbelievable at once. She couldn't remember anything beyond a student-teacher relationship with Snape. She remembered her sixth year project (potions, of course) and several discussions about potions, but it had all been very professional and distant (and mostly ended with Snape telling her to shut up). And she surely hadn't called Snape by his first name… or had she? If those scenes were what really happened, if she had been down in the dungeons that day… then someone had been messing with her memory. The question was why would anyone do that? What interest could they have to make her forget this particular memory? Or any memory that was of Snape outside the classroom? 

Hermione forced her breathing to become even and tried to concentrate. Snape and her other self were still arguing, both pointing at their notes from time to time and scowling a lot (although that was more Snape). 'Okay, Hermione, think,' she told herself. 'Who would want to alter your memory? And who would actually be able to do it like this?'  She knew that Memory Spells were highly complicated except for the basic ones. But the basic memory spells made the victim forget everything from the near past. Her memory was faulty concerning Snape. And only Snape (she hoped). Someone had done a lot to make her forget about Snape and their working together. Who? 

One logical answer was that Snape himself had erased her memories. Maybe she'd somehow offended him, or discovered something that he didn't want her to know. And instead of only erasing that specific memory, he'd erased them all, maybe to prevent the possibility that she'd discover this ominous fact again. But now he was showing her these memories. So probably not Snape. 

Who else had the power to do it? Definitely Dumbledore. But she couldn't come up with a reason why he would do it.

She continued her mental list (it held the names of most of the teachers and a few Order members when she was finished) and decided to ask Snape once these memories were over. She blinked. He hadn't even noticed that the scenery was different again. She was now standing in a dark alley. 

Hermione looked around. Where was her other self? 

She left the alley and soon stood in front of a dark gloomy shop. The sign simply read 'Borgin & Burkes.'  Hermione shuddered. She'd heard about that shop. It was in Knockturn Alley. She looked around and suddenly found that it was depressingly dark and creepy in the narrow street. Witches and wizards were lurking in the shadows, and she was glad that she was invisible to everyone. 

A hasty movement to her right made her turn around. A black-clad figure moved away from the stone wall of a building and went straight at a another person standing at one side of the alley. The person turned and she saw that it was her other self. Alarmed, she walked over to the man and her other self. Memory-Hermione seemed frightened. The man, dressed in a black cloak smeared with dirt, had teeth even worse than Marcus Flint's and a lewd grin plastered onto his face. He put one hand onto the wall right beside Memory-Hermione's head and leaned in too close even from her perspective. She didn't want to imagine what Mermory-Hermione must feel like. 

And where the devil was Snape? He must be near, somewhere. But why did he leave her alone in such a place? Didn't he know what kind of people hang around Knockturn Alley? 

A bell rang behind her, and she turned around – only to see someone walk right into her. And _through_ her. 'Right,' she reminded herself. 'I'm not real.'

It was Snape. He positioned himself between Memory-Hermione and the man, thereby forcing the man to take a step backwards. 

An eyebrow raised in typical Snape-manner, he crossed his arms and sneered at the man. "Did you want anything?" he asked in the tone he usually reserved for Gryffindors. 

The man didn't seem to like Snape's interruption. His hand wandered into his pocket, and Hermione suspected that he'd gripped his wand. Snape still hadn't moved. 

"I was talking to the lady, mate," the man said. "Why don't you go and crawl back under the stone from where you came?" 

Snape's other eyebrow followed its brother and Snape half-turned to Memory-Hermione. "Did I interrupt an interesting conversation here, Hermione?"

Memory-Hermione shook her head. Hermione could see that she was pale and nervous. Memory-Hermione still stood quite close to Snape, one of her hands was resting against Snape's side. Hermione supposed that she needed the comfort. 

Snape turned back to the man and said, "I don't think that the lady wants to talk to you. So if you don't mind, we have to go." With that, Snape took Memory-Hermione's hand and pulled her away. 

Hermione followed the couple with her eyes, but saw a movement from out of the corner of her eyes. The other man had drawn his wand and was aiming at Snape's back. 

"Look out," she yelled, but of course Snape couldn't hear her. The man fired his curse, and all she could do was watch. She hated it. 

But before the curse could hit Snape, he had pulled Memory-Hermione close to himself and jumped aside. In no time he had his own wand out and cast a Petrificus Totalus. The man fell flat on his face, his body rigid. 

Hermione felt the now familiar nauseating feeling in her stomach again and was pulled out of the memory into another. While she was still occupied with the scene she'd just witnessed, Memory-Hermione and Snape were back in his quarters, heads bent over a book. 

She still had no recollection of the event in her own memory – apart from what she remembered from just now. She wondered if she was in love with Snape. Or to be more precise, if Memory-Hermione was. The real Hermione couldn't possibly be in love with him. How could you love someone you know nothing about? 

So she started to watch more closely. And registered the furtive glances and innocent-looking touches now and then. She saw how Memory-Hermione and Snape worked together with ease, without snide remarks and intimidating gestures. Without any differences. The were equals. 

She was still wondering about that, when she was catapulted into yet another memory. 

She was back in the Great Hall. A glance at her watch told her that it wasn't of any use at all – it was still late afternoon according to the watch. So Hermione turned around to look at the clock on the far wall and was surprised to see that it was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning. Why would Memory-Hermione still be around the Great Hall at eleven o'clock? I must be weekend. 

"Oi, 'Mione," Ron called. The real Hermione made a face. She hated that nickname, but Harry and Ron frequently used it. She'd tried to make it clear that her name was '**_Her_**mione' not simply ''Mione.' That sounded like somebody's limb. Memory-Hermione's head jerked up, and she gave Ron a look that said 'Stop calling me that, or else…' 

'So we were thinking along the same lines,' Hermione mused. 'Well, of course we are. After all, I'm you.' She decided to not think about it and concentrate on her surroundings instead. 

Ron closed the book Memory-Hermione was reading and received another Look. "Come on, Hermione. The game's about to start. Harry'll be livid if we don't show up."

"By the time we arrive at the pitch he's probably caught the Snitch already," Memory-Hermione said, but sighed and got up. 

Ron sighed, too. "I wish I could play this match. But at least Dennis knows how to catch a Quaffle…"

Hermione stifled a grin although no one was there to see it. Ron had played keeper for the Gryffindor team since fifth year, and he was still very nervous. But with the help of a calming potion and an Anti-Distraction Charm he managed to stay focussed enough to keep the team out of trouble. The week before that match, she remembered, he'd accidentally twisted his right shoulder by falling off his Cleansweep. Madam Pomfrey had advised him to lay low for two weeks. So the reserve keeper, Dennis Creevey, played in the game against Hufflepuff. 

Together, Memory-Hermione and Ron left the Great Hall, and she wondered where Snape was. 

Her question was answered when Snape suddenly entered the Great Hall and walked up to the High Table. He had to pass Gryfindor table, though. And just before he could reach Hermione, he stopped and bent down. Hermione could see that he picked something up from the bench. 

Snape stared at the shawl for a moment before turning abruptly and leaving again. She darted out of the Great Hall behind him, almost racing to keep up with his quick pace. She wondered if the memory would tag her along should she just stop dead, or if she'd lose Snape. She didn't really know how these Pensieves worked in specific. 

But she needn't worry about that. Snape suddenly stopped. They were in a deserted dungeon corridor. Hermione looked around, but there was nothing of interest. What did he want here? 

Snape leaned his back against the cold wall and resumed staring at the shawl. It was a red-and-gold Gryffindor shawl, her own, if she saw correctly. So Hermione watched Snape watch the shawl, and the surrealism of the situation almost made her laugh. Snape's hands were carefully touching the shawl, almost caressing the soft fabric. His eyes were half-closed and his face was void of emotion. Nevertheless, he looked more relaxed than she could remember (on her own, without Pensieves). Then he slowly lifted his hands and buried his face in the shawl. 

Hermione gasped. Well, that answered the in-love question as far as Snape was concerned. 

She felt uncomfortable, like an intruder. The fact that Snape had selected the memories for her to see didn't make it any better. It was a very private moment, and she didn't feel like she had the right to witness it. 

But the Pensieve effect took care of that when she was hurled into another memory. She forgot about feeling ashamed and awkward because of Snape's feelings when she saw Memory-Hermione and Snape standing close together in the restricted section of the library. No one else was around, and she could tell from the silence that it must be late. These two were probably the only ones left. 

Oddly enough, Snape and Memory-Hermione didn't talk. They just looked at each other. And then, as if they'd heard a starting signal she was oblivious to, they bent towards each other and kissed. Hermione saw it all in slow motion. How Memory-Hermione's eyes closed and she leaned in to Snape. How Snape's left hand cupped her face and his right sneaked around her waist to hold her close. How their lips touched. 

She couldn't help it, she felt a short pang of jealousy. If this had really happened, she wanted to have her own memories of it. Memory-Hermione looked happy. She wanted that, too. She wanted to know how it felt to be kissed like that, to be held like that. She wanted to know how he smelled and tasted. She wanted to remember. She didn't want second-hand memories; she wanted the real thing. 

Then the memory was over and she was pulled back to Snape's quarters again. They were kissing already, and Hermione felt stupid for being jealous of herself. She averted her eyes and looked around. Maybe she could see a calendar or something to tell her which date it was. 

When she finally found what she'd been looking for, she was a bit surprised. It was mid-May. 

Mid-May in her sixth year and Snape and Memory-Hermione were – moving towards the bedroom!

Hermione followed hesitantly and distracted herself with maths. Mid-May in her sixth year… she'd been eighteen already. Well, seventeen, technically. But through the use of her time-turner back in third year, she had added a few months. 

Suddenly, all distractions failed. Snape was naked. Her heart skipped a beat, and she found herself staring against better judgement. Quickly, she covered her eyes and recited the Goblin Resolutions in order of administration. History of Magic usually helped to keep her thoughts in check. Now, however, the method didn't work. She could still _listen_. 

Whether she participated herself or not, she didn't want to see or hear _that_, and decided to leave the bedroom. Seconds later, the memory ended and she was pulled into another one. Obviously Snape hadn't wanted her to witness everything, otherwise the memory would have been longer. 

The next scene played in a room she didn't recognise. It was a simple room with no furniture or windows. She thought that it might be the Room of Requirement. 

Right now, Memory-Hermione and Snape were hugging. Or more like it, clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it. Finally, they released their grip and broke apart. Hermione gasped. Memory-Hermione's face was tear-streaked, and her eyes were blood-shot. And Snape's expression, which had been either indifferent or loving towards Memory-Hermione, was now serious and forcedly calm. 

"You know it's too dangerous," he said, his voice bare of the normally silky under-tone. 

"I know," Memory-Hermione whispered. "If someone finds out, you get fired, I get expelled and You-know-who would have a field day. He'd know that you are a spy. And while I'm already on his list of 'least favourite people/people to kill' for being Muggle-born and a friend of Harry Potter, that would surely be enough for the number one." 

Snape nodded. "And people are already starting to get suspicious. Albus made a few comments that were quite obvious. No one would approve of us."

Memory-Hermione wiped the tears off her cheeks and nodded. "You're right." 

Silence settled. Then Snape took a box out of his pocket and handed it over to Memory-Hermione. She took the box, and Hermione knew exactly what she would find in there. It wasn't hard to guess, really. It was about the only thing in her possession she could think of that fit into the small box – of the things she didn't remember possessing. The necklace. 

Memory-Hermione's eyes widened, and she made a move but stopped herself. Hermione could tell that she'd wanted to hug Snape. 

"It's beautiful," Memory-Hermione said, and the emotion behind these words was obvious. 

Snape nodded. "I had it made especially for you. Just so that you always remember how I feel." 

Hermione's felt her throat tighten, and she swallowed. …_that you always remember_… It must have been awful for him, realising that she didn't remember. 

"It's also a Locator. You can activate it at will, but it will also come to life when you are in danger," Snape continued. So that's how he had found her – wait. That couldn't be. She'd found the necklace in her room. She hadn't had it with her when she woke up in her hospital bed. She'd ask Snape about that. 

Memory-Hermione was now fumbling with the clasp, but she couldn't fasten the necklace. Snape took it out of her hands and stepped behind her. He put the necklace around her neck and let his hands rest shortly on her shoulders. "You should go now," he finally said, withdrawing his hands. Memory-Hermione nodded and slowly walked to the door. 

Hermione was reminded of a very sad film, and almost expected a melancholic song playing in the background, but then she realised that it wasn't just a dream or a movie but real life. Her life. She felt tears prickle behind her eyelids as well, but refused to cry. 

Then she felt a warm hand on her arm, gently pulling her out of the memory and back into reality. 

A/N: I don't know if I made any mistakes with the Pensieve descriptions, but since we don't know much about the accuracy of the memories or about how close the one remembering things has to be, just count minor flaws as artistic licence. 

And again I make Hermione older via time-turner. I only do that because many people wouldn't approve of non-con sex. I don't really have a problem with a seventeen-year-old and a thirty-seven year old having sex – as long as they both want it. But since there are people who have a problem with it, and it isn't a big deal to write a sentence saying 'oh, and btw, she was eighteen already because of her time-turner', I figured I'd make everyone happy. 

Thank you, my new beta, Onduril, for her corrections. 

Thanks for all the reviews… I didn't have Internet for a while (that's why it took me so long to update, but I'll be back to my usual in a month or so – I'm doing a practical right now, and between work and RL there's not much time left and apart from that I live with my parents for the time of the practical and the Easter Holidays and they have this really old computer that breaks down when you work on it too much – too much being half an hour. So you see, it's not my fault!). I got side-tracked. Back to the topic. Well, this chapter was supposed to clear up a lot of things, and didn't it work out quite well? **Kishkitten36** was very close to the truth, but not entirely. Snape never messed with Hermione's memory, and he certainly did not rape her (as **Dragonmaster Kurai** suggested). And the scar reads "mudblood" – she has it branded into her back – horrible, isn't it? I would hate that. Thank you, **Lisa**, for the compliment. I like keeping Snape nasty… or at least not too nice. I suppose his meanness is what makes me like him in the first place, so I wouldn't leave it out. **Chantal9**, I'm sorry if the prophecy was a bit confusing (though I think prophecies and divination has never been an obvious thing). As this chapter reveals, Hermione lost her virginity to Snape. He was not one of the captors. And that the man who raped her told her to put her underwear back on – that was supposed to be a kind of torture in itself. By telling Hermione to get dressed (at least so that her private parts are covered), the man shows her there is hope, that maybe it's not gonna happen again. But as it says in chapter one, that was only the first time, and there truly was no hope. I would give you the psychological term, but I don't know the English translation. It just discourages her more and more. Hope that makes it clearer. And thanks, **alan's only**, for one of the nicest compliments. I was checking on reviews in an Internet café and couldn't hide my joy at being called "e-ev-vi-il". People were staring at me. Thanks. (Oh, and yes, I'm weird. Think nothing of it, I'm being stared at a lot.) 

Why, aren't you curious about the inevitable talk… *sniggers* Mwuahahaha. 


	5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five 

Hermione opened her eyes and found Snape beside her, holding her upright. She was feeling dizzy, and uncomfortable. She also didn't know what she should say. 

Suddenly, she became aware of how close they were, and she shrugged off his arm. She knew that he would never harm her, or do anything she didn't want, but her rather bad experiences weren't the only reason to pull away. She wasn't sure what to say, what to think, what to feel. So she brought some distance between them. 

No one said a word for some time. Snape seemed to sense that she needed a bit of time to collect her thoughts, and she was thankful for the silence. 

"I feel sick," she finally said. 

An odd expression flickered across Snape's face, but vanished almost immediately to make space for a closed, reversed mask. She realised at once that her phrasing had sounded awfully wrong. 

"No! I mean, that's not what I meant. I really feel sick. I think I'm going to throw up." She stood up. "I need some air." 

Snape watched her open the window, but stayed on the sofa. After a few minutes, her breathing evened out and she turned back. "So we were…"

He nodded. 

"And I don't remember…"

He nodded again. 

"And we… I mean we had… we did…"

Another nod. 

Hermione sat down on the armchair he had occupied earlier. "I can't remember," she repeated. 

"I know," he replied, and shifted a stack of paper from the sofa onto the table. "Herm- I mean, Miss Granger, I need to know how much you remember." 

Hermione smiled. "You can call me Hermione, if you like." She noticed that she was again toying with her necklace, and tried to distract her. "Where is the tea?" 

"Cold. You were in there for about three hours."

Her eyes widened. Three hours! No wonder she was sick, sick for hunger. She'd already been starving three hours ago, now she wanted some food. "I'm hungry," she said bluntly. 

"Miss Granger, this is important. I-"

"I don't care!" She stood up again, nervously trailing a finger along the chain around her neck. "I'm starving, and I want… I want sandwiches, and pumpkin juice, and pudding! I want…"(-her voice was trembling slightly-)"I want to know what's going on, and I want to know why all of this is happening to me. I mean, what did I do wrong? Why does all of this happen to me? Why do I have to be the one who gets kidnapped, and tortured, and raped, and … and … I don't want this!" Something inside of her cracked, and then she was suddenly sitting on the floor (after sinking down to it rather ungracefully) and sobbing. The tears she'd suppressed almost the whole last week finally now ran freely down her cheeks, and she curled up into a ball. 

Snape, obviously not sure how to react, lightly touched her arm. "Miss Granger? Er, Hermione, I-" He broke off when she suddenly flung herself into his arms, clinging to him as if for dear life. Carefully, he encircled her trembling form, making sure that he didn't imprison her with his arms but let her feel that she could break away whenever she wanted, or needed. 

Hermione calmed down; after some time there just weren't any more tears left to cry. She was acutely aware of Snape's arms around her, and the only thing she could think was, _'Now I know what he smells like: Asphodel and – like a forest after rain'._

"Hermione?"

She nodded and reluctantly sat up. "I can only remember us as student and teacher. I couldn't recall any of the things I saw in your Pensieve, Professor. I-"

"Shh. That was not what I wanted to say. And I think if I'm calling you Hermione in private, then you should call me Severus," Snape said, almost smiling. "But what I was going to say is: Are you alright?"

She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and blew her nose. "Yes, I'm okay." She paused. "But I'm still hungry."

This time, Snape laughed loudly. She stared at him; she'd never heard him laugh before (or at least couldn't remember it). 

"Well, I suppose I could call a house elf. That is, if you promise not to shout at me for exploiting the weak." Snape looked up and, seeing her puzzled expression, laughed some more. 

"You should laugh more often," she told him, and stood up. "And I'm starving."

Snape nodded, and took out his wand. After he'd ordered a plate of sandwiches, pumpkin juice and pudding, they settled down again. 

"So," Snape started. "You can't remember me and the time we spent together last year."

She nodded. "I can only recall the lessons, and the time of my project. Apart from that, I don't remember seeing you at all, except maybe for meals."

"Hm." Snape frowned. "Only someone who's very powerful and skilled with Memory Charms could do this – erase specific memories from months ago without damaging other parts of the memory."

"Professor Sn- I mean, Severus, how did you find me? How did you really find me that day? Was it because of this?" She held up the ring on her necklace. "The – Locator."

Snape nodded. "You always wore it under your shirt. Near the end of last year, Crookshanks accidentally brought it down here. You were searching everywhere for it, and I think you threatened Miss Patil and bullied her into helping you. Well, I didn't notice Crookshanks hiding it in his basket, so when I found it a week later, I gave it back to you. That was two days before the end of term. As far as I know you swore that you'd never take it off again. And when you were kidnapped, it was activated. I was sitting here, waiting for the students to arrive, when suddenly the Reactor went off. That's this thing, by the way." Snape dug into his pocket and took out a pyramid-shaped black item that was small enough for him to hide in his palm. "It starts to hum and vibrate."

She reached out and took the small pyramid. It was unexpectedly light. 

"So I was naturally worried when you didn't show up for the Sorting. And then that owl arrived after dinner, and Albus was convinced that you were at home. I subtly tried to tell him you were in danger, but he wouldn't listen. So I persuaded him to send a reply to make sure. And you – or someone who could fake your handwriting – answered." 

"You couldn't do anything," she said, and handed the pyramid back. 

A house elf with the food appeared and Hermione couldn't speak for the next few minutes due to the huge amount of food in her mouth. 

"Well, there actually was a Death Eater meeting, and I heard some rumours about a kidnapping. I knew it was you. I, er, I followed one of the Death Eaters – I don't know him – to his home. He was the one who'd spread the rumours. I… questioned him."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but didn't stop chewing.

"He finally told me where you were, and I Apparated there. I found you, brought you back, and that's it. I took the Locator away before I brought you to Poppy. Albus would've recognised it for what it was, and I didn't want him to question you any further."

Hermione was beyond wonder. That was the longest she'd ever heard Snape talk (about something other than Potions, and without snide remarks). "What did you do to the man you 'questioned'"? she asked. 

Snape chuckled. "I erased his memory."

Even Hermione had to laugh at the irony. "Do you know why they erased my memory?"

Snape sobered up. His earnest expression was all it took for her to feel nauseous again. "I suppose I have a theory," he said carefully. She nodded, meaning for him to continue.

"Since they knew about the prophecy, I suppose they ran a test. A test about… I think they cast a Virgiosori1 on you. A virginity test. And when they discovered that you weren't a virgin, they probably erased memories that had to do with your losing your virginity. There's a spell that deletes memories connected to a certain situation, or feeling."

Hermione swallowed the last bit of her sandwich and bit her lip. She had just realised – the prophecy… the Death Eater who'd raped her… he wasn't the 'father' from the prophecy. Snape was. And as usual, her thoughts were chasing one another, all making equally little sense in her head. She had to write it all down, to figure out the logic behind everything. She had to… It was all so surreal. She couldn't remember anything. She didn't feel what she'd seen in Snape's memories. She might have been in love with him, but she wasn't now. Not anymore. 

She looked up and saw that Snape's gaze was fixated on her. It didn't seem as if he really noticed her, though. He was just staring at her, or _through_ her. 

She wondered what he was thinking. Was he thinking of her? Or their situation in general? Was he just remembering something from their past she didn't know anymore? Or did he simply fight the urge to touch her, kiss her? Hermione suppressed a shudder. She knew that couples wanted to touch and kiss all the time, and from what she knew Snape might be gravely in love with her. Snape _in love_. It sounded so strange. And she couldn't imagine Snape kissing anyone, let alone her. She only knew that she didn't want to be kissed by him. 

"What are you thinking?" 

She was so startled to hear his voice that she replied reflexively, "That I don't want to kiss you."

"Oh." She looked up and saw that strange expression again. Great. She managed to hurt his feelings. _Again_. (Harry and Ron would have snorted at the thought of Snape having feelings at all.) "Well, I suppose that's reasonable."

She sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to be harsh. I understand that this must be difficult for you and-"

She was cut off by Snape's bitter laugh. "Difficult for me? Oh, sure." He stood up and walked over to the door. "Hermione, _you_ are the one who went through all of this. _You_ were violated, and hurt. _You_ were nearly killed. _You_ were assaulted physically and mentally. I don't have anything to do with it." He paused shortly, and she wondered why, but his slightly strained voice gave away his tension. "We agreed that we were not in a relationship anymore. In fact, it's as if it solely happened in my memories since you don't remember. That makes it only easier, for both of us. I don't know you anymore, Hermione, and _you_ sure as hell don't know me." 

He grabbed the doorknob but didn't open the door yet. Hermione was frozen on the spot, fascinated and a bit intimidated by her professor's open display of emotion. "I don't know why I decided to show you that in the first place, but it seems like a foolish thing to do right now. Given the circumstances, I will not meddle with your memory, but you will promise not to tell anyone." He looked at her expectantly. 

"I… I promise?" she asked slightly hesitantly. She had an idea where this was leading, and she wasn't sure she liked it. But then again, being kicked out of the professor's room wasn't the worst thing that could happen to her. He could always take off points. Or assign detention. 

"Good. Now leave, and don't talk to me again."

She stood up and walked past him. Then she stopped and opened her mouth – to thank him for showing her anyway – but he stopped her before she could say one word. 

"No. Don't say anything," he said, and she thought he looked exhausted. "Just go, please."

***

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore paced from wall to wall in his living room. He was unsure of how to proceed. If he did just one wrong move, it would all be lost. He'd have to be careful. 

Miss Granger seemed in no condition to endure a talk with him. He'd seen her fleeing to Gryffindor Tower, coming up from the dungeons. He had an inkling as to what she may have seen, but until he had talked to Severus, he couldn't be sure. 

So that was his plan: Talk to Severus. He just hoped that the younger man was ready to take a burden upon his shoulders that should not have been his. 

Albus sighed. 

It was difficult to know what he knew – and still make the right decisions. In the past, he'd often been mislead. But this time there was no room for mistakes. The fate of the wizarding world may be depending on his decision. 

Albus closed his eyes shortly and silently prayed for forgiveness. Then his shoulders straightened and the old man went to the door. He crossed his office, shortly pausing at the phoenix' perch. Fawkes – a very proud animal, in his opinion – looked still ruffled from the last burning. Nevertheless, the bird had an aura of supreme confidence and, yes, royalty. The sparkling red and gold lights of the bird's aura were merrily dancing around him. However, when Albus stepped nearer, the bird – usually very affectionate and loving – suddenly started to shriek frantically. Albus stopped and took a few steps back. Fawkes calmed down a bit but still eyed the headmaster with suspicion and disappointment. The formerly bright aura was now tinted with black, and the bird started weeping sadly. A sole tear ran down the phoenix' beak and fell to the floor. 

Albus' eyes, now completely devoid of their usual twinkling, were serious. "I understand, Fawkes. I am sorry, but it's the way things have to be. Sometimes," the headmaster added with a deep sigh, "sometimes, we have to make sacrifices."

The bird, still weary of the old man, didn't give any sign of understanding. He simply sat there and ignored his master. 

Albus nodded. "I understand," he faintly murmured, and closed the door softly, making his way down to the dungeons. 

***

Albus had always liked the dungeons. Back in his school days at Hogwarts, he would often be found walking leisurely the long hallways in the dank dungeons, happy to escape his housemates, and his techers. Of course, the Slytherins hadn't taken in the invader with open arms. He'd been hexed various times, until he had found a way to hide his presence from his peers. 

Now, as the headmaster, he didn't need to hide the fact that he was in the dungeons, but he preferred to do so anyway. Becoming visible just in front of Severus' private lab's door, he waited for a moment, trying to assess the situation. 

Despite the various silencing charms and wards around the place, he heard a low rumble and a curse, followed by a growl. 

Albus persuaded the door to open, even if he didn't have Severus' personal password, and carefully stepped inside. At once, he smelled the remnants of five different potions, and, sure enough, five cauldrons were situated on the long workbench. 

Severus himself was pacing, a tactic the young man had brought to perfection. He would cross the room in four long strides, turn around in a flourish, and walk briskly back to the starting point. Very impressive, and for Albus a good way of measuring Severus' condition. The length of the steps, the motion of his robes and hair, the way he turned and walked – all signs of how good – or bad – Severus was dealing with every situation. Albus could see that Severus was very agitated, and he found his previous assumption confirmed: Miss Granger now knew about the love she shared with Severus. He suppressed a sigh. That would make things more complicated.

Peeking into the cauldron nearest to the door, he saw that it was of a nasty yellow colour. Not being a potions expert, he shrugged, and resumed watching Severus. He had no doubt that Severus was aware of his presence, even if he didn't acknowledge it. 

Growling at the cauldron, Severus finally stopped pacing and cleared up the working place, still ignoring the headmaster.

"Severus?" he asked. He could not let him off easy today. 

The dark haired man turned around. "Yes, Albus?" 

The headmaster could tell that he was annoyed and didn't want to talk about it. _I'm sorry, boy, but I **must** know for sure. _

"I heard Miss Granger visited you today," he said noncommittally. Albus let his gaze wander over the various items, seemingly fascinated with the interior of Severus' lab. He was, however, watching his young protégé out of the corner of his eye. Right now, he was studying a green spot on the stone floor and inspected the cauldrons. He didn't once look at Snape directly. 

"Yes, Miss Granger… I told her to accompany me to my office." Severus scowled – a very common expression for the sour Potions Master. Albus was sure that Severus knew that he knew. But still, the younger man continued. "I corrected her interpretation of the prophecy." 

Despite his rather general and veiled formulation, Albus understood exactly what Severus had told Miss Granger. 

"Oh, really?" was all Albus said. He was now examining the undersides of Severus' working tables. 

"Albus," Severus hissed. "Would you please come out from under my table. This is a serious matter."

"I agree," came Albus' muffled voice from across the table. The old man stood up and steadied himself. "Ouf. I should do that anymore. One hundred and fifty-two is far too old to be crawling on the ground." Albus had hoped that Severus would loosen up a bit, but it seemed that he took the matter indeed very seriously. 

"Indeed," Severus said with a sneer, another trademark expression of his. Albus smiled slightly. "But we need to find a solution. Miss Granger is very confused, and I think she has the impression that I am in love with her."

Albus sighed. Severus' expression was guarded and didn't give away his thoughts. But he had other means to know what occupied the younger one's mind. "Well, Severus, wasn't that the impression we wanted her to have?" 

"Of course," Severus agreed. "But that was before she was raped."

"And how does that change anything?" Albus asked, his voice indifferent. Silently, Albus apologised to Hermione and Severus for his harsh words, but he had to make sure he was assuming the right thing. 

Severus' cold stare was enough of an answer for the headmaster. 

"I hope this was not a serious question, Albus," said Severus. "If it was, then I was wrong all these years."

Albus slowly shook his head. He walked over to the door and put his hand on Severus' arm. Severus raised an eyebrow and then looked at Albus questioningly. 

"Severus, if the prophecy was fulfilled, the light side would triumph. Wouldn't it be worth a sacrifice?" he asked instead of giving an answer. "Is one more lie really the worst that could happen? Miss Granger need never know. I'm sure," he said, "once we find a way to reinstate her memories, she will trust you again." He didn't say 'she will love you again' as he wanted to. Severus wouldn't react well to that, Albus was sure. 

Severus gave a brief nod. "It's not like I have a chance, is it?" With that, he shook off his mentor's hand and left the laboratory. 

The old man stood there for a long time, thinking over the conversation. _No,_ he finally decided, _one lie more wouldn't make things worse. Especially if it isn't a lie at all._

He sighed again and rubbed his temples. This would take some time to develop. He just hoped that they did have that time. He was worried. 

End Chapter Five 

A/N: The usual disclaimers (I own nothing; don't sue me – I'm poor) apply to this chapter as well. 

Additionally, I decided to leave Snape's POV out of this chapter (again). Although I love writing Snape, I thought that I should introduce my new and improved Albus Dumbledore, secret schemer and not very 'Gryffindor' headmaster. Don't worry, though, he won't turn evil. But I believe that there's more to Dumbledore than many believe – he wouldn't be headmaster if he were dumb. ;-) 

And I want to apologise if the chapter's confusing. I'm aware that you can't see what's inside my head and planned for future chapters – but believe me when I say 'it's all planned and worked out'. Although I wouldn't take anything for granted. I have some twists and surprises planned for you. 

So, you go and review, and I go and write some more. Deal?

At this point I want to thank Cianna Greenwood. In the prophecy, I really meant 'taken **by** the father', not 'from'. Sorry, I got the prepositions confused. I uploaded the improved version of chapter three, not with correct prepositions. Thanks! 

Ara, here's your 'more'. Not so soon, but it's here now. 

stoncoldfox, thanks for the reviews (yes, it's actually plural, because stonecoldfox reviewed three different chapters in one day). 

DistinctVagueness, I don't think the 'talk' in this chapter was what you expected, right? Sorry if it was unsatisfying, but I can't bring them together just yet. In fact, until chapter eight or nine, there won't even be a kiss between them. 

Dragonmaster Kurai, hope you liked it!

kishkitten36, I think I will give her back the memories, but it will take some time (maybe a potion, or is that too clichéd?). And about the Death Eaters who knew what they were searching for in her mind… they didn't know it was Severus. They just erased memories having to do with losing her virginity, they didn't have a clear image of it. And yes, she will have to have his baby… But not quite yet. – About Lupin: He had no idea. He's pretty much oblivious, but he kind of sees himself in Hermione (being the quiet and bookish part of the trio), so he's very upset about what happened to her. I'm contemplating if I should give him a bigger part in the story. What do you think? 

Leyna Rountree – yes, it's pretty hard not to let anything slip that would spoil a good twist. So far, I think I'm doing a good job… 

So, Moisie, you can stop pouting now. Here's a new chapter. Thanks for the review.

And last, but not least, Fiona, who said I was evil (thanks) and that she didn't know where I was going with the story (exactly how I planned it). And thanks for saying nice things about my English – I'm often unsure about it. 

So, if I forgot anybody, I'm sorry. Just tell me in a review (hint hint) and I promise I'll make it up to you. 

Finally, I want to thank Stephanie (aka Onduril) for beta-ing this chapter and being a good friend. The next chapter will probably take two weeks, since I'm settling back in for the new semester and need to sort out a few this about my schedule and stuff. 

(God, these A/N were almost a page long…)

Bye, donotsrock

  


* * *

1 The Virgiosori Charm was invented by Nikki aka Seducing Severus. I asked her permission to use it in a fic, although that was months and months ago. She probably doesn't even remember me. But she said I could use it. So everyone out there who can speak German, do and read her stories. Maybe she's even written some in English. I don't know. 

The Virgiosori is a spell to detect a person's experience in sexuality. Depending on the experience, the face changes colours. A kiss would make it slightly blue, kiss with tongue – a darker blue and so on, until it a dark violet indicates that the 'ultimate step' has been taken. 


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six 

Hermione woke up and felt disoriented. She blinked rapidly and tried to remember where she was, and why she wasn't in her own bed. Or in any bed at all.

_Why am I sleeping in an armchair?_ she wondered, and looked around. The she remembered. She'd been in the common room, studying late, and everybody else had been asleep already. She must have fallen asleep somewhere in between chapters sixteen and seventeen of _Ars Vaticinatione_. The book lay on the floor, a few of its pages crumpled. Hermione frowned and picked it up, putting it back on the table.

She felt drained. Her back hurt, and every time she moved her head to the left, there was a jolt of pain shooting through her neck. _Well, good that Christmas Holidays start in two days._

The last three months had been difficult for her. And being kidnapped by Death Eaters had only been the beginning. Afterwards, back at school, things didn't improve much. Granted, she wasn't chained to a wall anymore, and she wasn't tortured, or raped, but her problems increased tenfold.

There was a huge burn on her back that made it difficult for her to change her clothes in front of her roommates. Not to mention the pain the wound inflicted even after being healed by Madam Pomfrey. Then there were Harry and Ron, who tried desperately to make her feel comfortable, and only succeeded in making her feel even worse because she knew that things had changed and nothing could go back to the way it was before. Then there were Professor McGonagall, and the headmaster himself, who seemed to pop up out of nowhere every time she wanted some time alone and managed to shake off her two shadows named Harry and Ron – and of course they wanted to know if she was alright, and if she wanted to talk. She was sick of it. She didn't want to talk, and she didn't want their pity. All she wanted was her wand, and some time alone with her captors, preferable with her captors in chains, and naked, so that she could hurt them just as much as they had hurt her.

Another problem she faced every day were her classmates. None of them knew what Hermione had been through, and although she knew that they didn't intend any harm, she couldn't help but flinch away every time someone caught her off-guard and touched her.

But the biggest problem so far had been Snape. He seemed to be everywhere. She couldn't make one step without seeing his dark figure looming in some corner, or stalking down the corridor a few feet behind her. It made her uncomfortable and brought up some memories – memories that weren't her own.

She didn't want to know what he was feeling – if it hurt him to see her every day and yet not be able to touch her, or what he felt about her obvious rejection.

Hermione sighed and stood up, shaking off the feeling of misery. Slowly, she walked up the stairs to her dormitory. Maybe she could get another hour of sleep. She just wished that things would finally get back to normal.

_Shadows. The first thing she noticed were the shadows. Menacing. Dark. Looming. _

_She was frightened. _

_The shadows moved, and she shivered when one of them touched her. It was cold, and an altogether unpleasant sensation. _

_She heard whispers, too. She couldn't make out the words, but she was sure that the shadows were not talking about nice things. _

_Slowly, she looked around. _

_She was in a cave, a huge one. The dark grey stone walls were wet with water, and she didn't know whether it was because it had been raining, or because it was something of a permanent fix. Somehow, it seemed important to her that the walls were wet, but she couldn't concentrate long enough on that thought to find out why it was so important. _

_The shadows moved again, away from her, and she was glad that they were leaving. She had been afraid they might hurt her. _

_Then it hit her. It was nothing physical, and it didn't really hurt her, but she felt as if something had hit her squarely in the face. A sudden wave of dread and despair flooded her, trying to rid her of every happy memory there was. _

_Suddenly, she felt strong hands around her arms and looked down. She was being held by someone, but not in a good way. the hands hurt her, and she squirmed, trying to loosen their hold a little, maybe even to break free. And then there was the face. The face of her captor. She couldn't quite make out the features because of the Concealment Charm he used, but she still thought she recognised him. When he finally spoke, she was sure it was him. _

_"Ah, my mudblood. I thought I'd be seeing you again."_

_She was sick. She wanted to throw up, but at the same time knew that she couldn't. She had to be strong, and calm because… because… she didn't know. But she **had** to be strong. It was important that she didn't give up. Don't give up, don't give up, don't give up. The thought rang through her head, never ending. Don't give up. Don't give up. _

_Then he pulled her to her feet, and she knew that she'd been sitting on the cold floor for a long time already, because her legs were numb, and her feet were prickling with the blood rushing back into her limbs again. It felt like thousands of needles picking her skin, tearing out tiny bits of her. _

_Her captor lead her to another part of the cave, and soon, after a few turns, she lost orientation. She didn't know where she was anymore. There was a maze down here, and she couldn't escape. She was trapped. She felt herself panic, but reminded herself not to give up. She needed to be strong. It was important. _

_Then he stopped, and she knew they'd reached their destination. It was a small chamber off one of the tunnels, dimly lit by a petroleum lamp. She wondered briefly why a wizard would use a Muggle device. That was when she noticed there were other people in the chamber, too. Muggles, she assumed. She didn't know them. Or did she? They seemed familiar, somehow. But she couldn't place them. Maybe she'd seen them before. She frowned, but when she tried to grasp the thought, it disappeared. Well, maybe it wasn't important. But the feeling was back, the one that told her to keep going, and it said that they **were** important. The Muggles were important people. And she mustn't give up. It was all very confusing, and she just wished she could go home and sleep. _

_Her captor pushed her down and she fell to the ground heavily, not being able to slow the fall with her bound hands. Her head crashed against the stone floor, and the world went black. _

Hermione woke up with a headache.

She went to the bathroom, took a quick (and not all that refreshing) shower, and then headed for breakfast. Since it was the last day of term, everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Well, everyone except for her.

"Oi, Hermione, you look like hell!"

"Thanks, Ron," she said, too tired to make it sound really sarcastic. "That's what every girl wants to her."

"Yeah, give it a rest, Ron," Parvati chipped in. "She's had a rough night."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, and then looked at Parvati. "What do you mean?" Harry asked eventually.

Hermione frowned. She didn't really know what Parvati was talking about. Her night had been perfectly normal.

Parvati shrugged. "She's been having nightmares, I suppose. Tossing and turning, and even screaming, sometimes. It was pretty bad last night."

"Wait," Harry said, now sounding very concerned. "She's been having nightmares, and you never told us?"

Parvati shrugged again. "I didn't know it was important. Everyone has nightmares from time to time."

"Yeah, but still, you should have told us," Ron said. "How long's this been going on?"

"Oh, maybe two months." Parvati turned around to Lavender, who was sitting a few seats down the table. "Oi, Lav, how long has Hermione been having nightmares?"

"Two months," Lavender replied. "Tonight's been bad, too."

"So, you're saying that she's been having nightmares for over two _months_, and no one seemed to care about telling us?" Ron put down his fork and stared at Parvati, who shrugged yet again.

"Okay, everyone, stop talking about me as if I'm not here. I'm not two years old, and I don't think my sleep pattern is a matter of public approval. So I've nightmares once in a while – who doesn't?" Hermione said, looking pointedly at Harry, who blushed, but didn't look away. "And given the circumstances-"

"What circumstances?" Parvati interrupted her.

Hermione ignored it and continued unimpressed. "I think I can't be blamed for having nightmares. I can handle it, and I don't need to discuss this at breakfast, or any other time, mind you. And now I'm going to the library." She stood up and saw Ron making a move to stand up himself. "And don't you dare following me, Ronald Weasley. I've had enough of this. I don't want you, or Harry, to follow me. I want to be alone." She paused. None of the boys said anything.

"Alone, got it? Promise me. Promise me that you won't follow me, or send somebody else to spy on me. I can handle things myself. It's not like I'm going to get kidnapped right out of Hogwarts, is it?" _No, but King's Cross Station_, she thought bitterly, but pushed the thought aside hurriedly. She could see on Harry and Ron's faces that they were thinking exactly the same, but they both muttered "I promise" all the same.

Satisfied for now, Hermione turned and left the Great Hall for some study time at the library before classes.

Parvati, who had followed the little exchange without a clue as to what was really going on, looked at Harry and Ron questioningly, and then went to sit by Ginny and Lavender to tell them everything about little miss perfect's outburst.

"Do you think we overreacted?" Harry asked Ron.

They were on their way from the Great Hall to the greenhouses, for the first class that morning, Herbology. Professor Sprout was already waiting for the students, handing out little knives and heavy leather gloves.

Ron shrugged and took a pair of gloves. "I don't know. I mean, she is the cleverest and strongest witch in our year." He paused. "But it didn't stop them from taking her."

Harry made a face. "I know. I want to think that she'll be alright, but then I remember what they did to her, and –" He stopped speaking. Ron turned around to see what Harry was staring at. _Malfoy, great. Just what we need_, he thought. _Malfoy spilling stories about Hermione._

"You need anything, ferret?" he asked, challenging Malfoy to say anything out of line. _Oh please, say something awful, and I'll get blood all over that fine robe of yours. _

But Malfoy silently shook his head and turned away again. Once they were sure he was out of earshot, Harry sighed. "I just don't want anything to happen to her."

"Me too, mate, me too," Ron said. He shuddered. "I know that Snape's looking out for her, too. I don't know if that calms me, or makes me more frightened. He's one of the good guys, but he's still… _Snape_."

Harry nodded empathically. "Yes. Dumbledore was vague about that the last meeting, wasn't he? But I suppose Snape's on our side." He shrugged. "I want to know why Dumbledore told him to watch Hermione. Does he think she's still in danger? 'Cause then I don't think we're overreacting."

Ron only had time to nod shortly in agreement before Hermione came into the greenhouse, took a pair of gloves and a knife and went over to them. She smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I know that you just want to protect me, but I really don't need a constant escort everywhere I go. Especially inside the castle."

"Hermione, we just care about you. We don't want to see you hurt," Harry said. "Again,"

he added as an afterthought.

Ron nodded. "Yeah. – But I agree that we might have overdone it a bit."

"Good. So, we're still friends?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

"Of course, 'Mione. We'll always be friends."

"Not if you keep calling me 'Mione," she said, grinning wickedly. "I've got a knife here, you see…"

With that, they burst out laughing, and Professor Sprout had to call them to order.

"Are you all right, dear? You seem… sad."

Hermione turned around, and smiled. "Of course I am, mum. I was just thinking about some stuff from school."

"You've been staring out of that window for over ten minutes now, darling. Don't you want to come down and sit with us for a while?" her mum asked, absently crossing and un-crossing her arms. She seemed uncomfortable.

Hermione sighed inwardly. Maybe it hadn't been a good idea to come back home for Christmas. The last few days had been far more stressing than the whole last month. Her parents didn't know what had happened, and she didn't intend to tell them. But she couldn't stop feeling out of place at Hogwarts, and she had hoped that it would be different at home. Apparently, it wasn't.

"I'll be down in a minute, mum. I need to got to the bathroom first." She went past her mother towards the bathroom, but then turned around and asked, "Can we go down to Mr. Singh's and rent a video or something?" Mr. Singh was the owner of a grocery store down the street, but he also rent videos, DVDs, grills, heavy gardening tools, and almost everything you could ask for. She'd known him since her early childhood, and she really liked the man. Besides, before Hogwarts, she'd been friends with his daughter.

Her mother smiled, and then nodded. "Of course, darling. I'll tell dad to go and rent something funny. What about 'Road to El Dorado'? I really liked that." The smile faded, and she added, "Unless you want something else."

"No, mum, that movie's fine. I like it."

Her mum nodded and went down the stairs. Hermione could hear her and her father talking, and then the front door shutting behind him as he went to fetch the movie. Her mum had always loved animated cartoons, and Disney movies were her favourites.

Smiling, Hermione went into the bathroom. _Maybe today isn't ending as badly as I thought._

"Hermione? Are you ready? Dad's got the movie, and I even made some popcorn."

"Yes, mum. I'll be there in a second," she called back, and checked herself in the mirror one last time. Encouraged by the not-so-dark lookout of the rest of the day, she had changed her clothes and put on a nice long skirt (a birthday gift from her grandmother) and a matching shirt (another birthday gift, but this one from her parents). She put on her witch-y earrings (they were tiny gold witches, flying on broomsticks, dangling about an inch under her ears – though she had put a spell on them to stop them from actually flying around her ear all the time) and a whiff of perfume.

Then, smiling, she went down into the kitchen, and grabbed a bottle of ginger ale. She knew that her father would appreciate the gesture.

"…just saying that she's changed," the voice of her mother drifted in from the living room.

Hermione stopped in the hallway, not sure what to do.

"I know," her father sighed. "It's difficult. I feel like I can't reach her anymore. She's so…"

As silent as she could, she moved closer to the door, trying to hear more of the conversation.

"…not our daughter anymore…" that was her mother's voice again.

Hermione couldn't stop her eyes from filling with tears. She felt cold, like every last bit of warmth had been taken from her. Shocked, she backed away until she felt the wooden banister stab her in the back. She suppressed a sob and ran up the stairs.

Once she was in her room, she started to throw things into her trunk, and then dragged it back down. She could still hear her parents talking, but didn't want to face them now.

_If they don't want me, they could have said something,_ she thought bitterly. _I wouldn't have bothered to come. _

Angrily, she wiped away the tears and yanked her coat off the hall cupboard. Still trying to be silent, she went outside, inwardly thanking the gods that her trunk was charmed to be permanently weightless.

Outside, she lifted her wand hand – Harry had told her how to call the Knight Bus, but she'd also read it in books. She even knew where she would go.

With a loud _crack!_ the huge purple triple-decker appeared in the street. A man, only a few years older than herself, opened the door. Smiling broadly, he took her trunk and said, "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on boar-"

"I know, thanks." She just didn't have time for niceties. "Just take me to the Leaky Cauldron. How much is it?"

"Er, fourteen sickles. Sixteen if you want 'ot chocolate, and-"

"No, thanks. I just want to go to London." Hermione followed the conductor in his violently purple uniform into the bus and sat down in an armchair. Apparently, they hadn't settled for night time yet, so there were still chairs instead of beds.

The conductor just nodded and went away to sit by the driver. She probably hadn't been very polite, but she was beyond caring. She just wanted to get to London.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk and waited. He didn't like it much. He was still worried, but he was also relieved, relieved that something had happened, finally. He'd known that it would happen, eventually, and that he needed to be prepared, and he had been prepared. Ever since Hermione Granger hadn't signed her name on the list of pupils staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, he'd been prepared. It had cost him a lot of persuasion on some parts, and – he had to admit – bribery on others.

The door to his office started to glow slightly, and then the words 'Severus Snape' appeared on it in dark green. Albus muttered the counter spell and the words disappeared. Seconds later, Severus entered his office, without knocking.

"Ah, yes. Severus, do come in, settle down," Albus said, smiling at the younger man.

Severus didn't look too happy. Instead of sitting down, he simply stood behind the chair and looked at the Headmaster expectantly.

"What is it, Albus?" Severs scowled. "You interrupted a very complicated experiment, and now it's useless because I couldn't finish. The ingredients were expensive, and I hope this really is as important as you say."

Albus sighed. "Of course it is important, Severus. Did I ever interrupt your work for something short of a life-and-death situation?"

Severus made a face, and then said dryly, "Well, last week, when you called me up to see something very important, it turned out to be a pair of green socks you found in the laundry. I would hardly call that a life-and-death situation."

Albus smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry if it wasn't as important to you as it was to me, Severus. Why don't you sit down?"

After a whole six minutes of silence (in which Severus started pacing and Albus studied his fingernails) it occurred to Severus that the Headmaster might not talk until he sat down. Finally, he stopped pacing and sat down in the high-backed wingchair.

Albus cleared his throat. "Miss Granger's parents contacted me. It seems that their daughter left her parents' house yesterday evening." He paused to observe Severus' reaction to that. Of course there wasn't any reaction at all. The younger man's face stayed impassive. "Care for a lemon drop?"

"Albus, you know very well that I don't care about your sweets in any way," Severus said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Albus sighed inwardly. _A battle it is then,_ he thought. _I wonder who of us is going to break first._

It was clear to him that Severus had no intention of giving in to Albus' games. He wouldn't react the way Albus wanted him to, and the older wizard was too stubborn to let go.

Over the last three months, he had watched his former pupil. In fact, he had monitored his every step, but he had not witnessed what he needed to see. So it was time to take action.

If Severus didn't make a move towards Miss Granger soon, it would all be lost, and that could not happen.

The silence stretched as the men stared at each other.

Hermione was staring at the door of her room. She had spent the whole day in the small room, and she was beginning to feel restless. She didn't want to go down into Diagon Alley in case she met anybody she knew. She didn't need them asking question, like why she wasn't home, and why she wasn't at Hogwarts. She didn't know, really. She hadn't even though about going back to Hogwarts. It seemed pointless, in a way. She knew every spell, charm and potion there was to be learned at Hogwarts. Her lessons were already painfully boring, and she just sat them out, waiting for the NEWTs to come.

She sighed. She knew she had to go back after Christmas. She couldn't just throw away her whole future just because she was bored at school. She would just begin studying more advanced magic. Maybe she could get Professor McGonagall to teach her how to become an Animagus. That would be interesting.

Hermione took a deep breath and stood up. She checked her purse and then headed out for Flourish & Blotts. She might as well get a head start while she was here. She could always say she was shopping in case anyone asked her.

Her mind made up, she took her cloak, and left the Leaky Cauldron for Diagon Alley.

"Alright, you win."

Albus looked up. "Win?" he asked, clearly amused. "I didn't know there was anything to win, Severus."

"Quit it, Albus. I'm in no mood for your mind games," Severus scowled. "Where is she?"

"What makes you think I know where Miss Granger is staying?" Albus said, unwrapping a sweet and popping it into his mouth. The sugar always made him feel relaxed, and he feared he might need more relaxation in the months to come.

Severus only glared at him. Of course he knew that Albus knew.

"Miss Granger spent the night at the Leaky Cauldron, and she has paid for another week in advance." Albus saw Severus breathe out in relief, and the concerned look vanished from his eyes. Albus continued as though he hadn't noticed. "I think Tom mentioned that her room number was nine."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I suppose that's up to you. I trust that you do the right thing, Severus." Albus stood up and walked the dark haired man to the door. "Just keep her save."

Severus nodded, and left the office.

"For now," Albus murmured, sighing deeply.

Hermione smiled slightly as she walked out of the book shop. Her arms were loaded with books, all on transfigurations and animagism. She had reading material for the rest of the holidays, and even if she wasn't allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts for the rest of her school days, she could at least practise the theory and memorise the incantations. Maybe the holidays would be fun after all.

While she was making her way back to the Leaky Cauldron, she thought about her afternoon. All in all, it had been a very satisfying experience to not think about… certain things.

She waved at Tom, the bartender, and went up to her room. She fumbled with the key, but found her door unlocked. Frowning, she checked the room number (the brass number, nine, was still in place), and slowly opened the door, her wand drawn.

Standing next to the bed, clad in his customary black, was Professor Snape.

End Chapter Six

A/N: I understand that this chapter might have been a bit boring, but the next one will be better, I promise. I am also very sorry about the delay. I promise (really, I do) to update again very soon. I solemnly swear that I will upload chapter seven in less than two week (so, by the 25th at the latest).

Thanks go to **Onduril**, who beta-ed this chapter.

**Raclswt **and** odeassaspacey1**, you were supposed to be confused about certain things. Some things won't be clear until the very last chapter, and I am very careful with what I reveal and when. About the kissing… there won't be any kissing for a few chapters, but after that, things will happen faster. I can promise you.

**Cianna Greenwood**, when the story is finished, you have to tell me if you were right about knowing where I'm going with this. I think some plotlines are very obvious, but others are so subtle that you might miss them… But I am sure you will be surprised, and sometimes angry with me.

And **kishkitten**, thanks for the email. Your review here on ff.net seems to be lost, though, but it doesn't matter. I thought about what you wrote, and I think I have decided where I'm going with Lupin. I can't tell you yet, but when the time comes, I will give credit where credit is due.

everyone else who reviewed: Thank you so much. I LOVE reviews.


	7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

"What are you doing here?"

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest. Angrily, she stared at the intruder.

"You disappeared from home. Your parents were worried," Snape answered.

She couldn't read his expression (_No surprise there,_ she thought grimly), but didn't think it mattered that much. "Yeah, of course," she replied, in a tone that made it quite clear that she didn't believe him. "Who let you into my room?"

"Dumbledore sent me," he continued stoically, as if she hadn't said anything. Her anger rose and rose with every word. _How dare he?_

"I don't see where that is any of his business where I spend my holidays," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "Or yours, _Professor_."

Instead of answering, Snape pulled his wand out of his pocket and started to shrink her belongings.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, alarmed. What if that wasn't even Snape? What if someone was using Polyjuice Potion to kidnap her – again. Her anger immediately switched to something close to panic. "S-Stop that," she stammered, and raised her wand again, trying to look unafraid, and failing miserably.

Quite-possibly-not-the-real-Snape summoned all her belongings to him and pocketed them. Then he looked up, and his whole appearance changed. He didn't change into another person, but still, he looked different. He looked like the Snape she'd seen in her memory tour a few months back.

His features had softened a little, and he his eyes weren't devoid of emotion anymore. He looked concerned, and she thought that he might actually be worried about her. His wand was nowhere to be seen, and he didn't look threatening at all.

Neither of them moved for a few moments, until Snape finally cleared his throat and slowly approached her. She put her wand away and looked up, steadying herself by grabbing the door handle behind her.

"Why are you here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I told you: Dumbledore sent me. He told me to take you somewhere save."

She hadn't noticed she'd been whispering, but when he answered in an equally subdued tone, she realised how close they were standing. Again, they didn't move for some time.

Hermione tried to analyse her feelings. She was still a bit angry that he came and took over so easily, and not even bothering to explain. But at the same time, she knew that he wasn't going to hurt her in any way, and that she was safe with him. There were other feelings, too, but none of them were stronger than those two.

"You are blocking the door."

Snape's voice startled her out of her thoughts, and she abruptly let go of the door handle. Too abruptly, it seemed. She swayed, sure that she would fall over any second.

But Snape grabbed her shoulders and kept her from falling. He held her a bit longer than absolutely necessary, and she dropped her eyes.

"Thank you," she said, and moved out of the way, so that Snape was forced to let go of her.

"We should get going," he said, and took the bags from Flourish & Blotts that were still lying at her feet.

"_Where_ are we going?" she asked as she followed him out of the room and down the stairs.

"Do you want to go back to Hogwarts?" he shot back. He didn't slow down or stop to check if she was following him. She was a bit miffed that he expected her to follow him like a lost puppy. But she didn't say anything. Instead she simply answered his question.

"Not unless I have to." She paused. "We are not going there, are we?"

He shook his head. "No. Do you want to go back to your parents' house?"

"No!"

He half-turned and raised an eyebrow at her sudden outburst, but shrugged it off when she ignored him.

"Do you know any other place you could go?"

She made a face. "The Leaky Cauldron," she said, "but that's not an option anymore, I suppose."

They had reached the ground floor now and Snape strode across the bar to the passage that led outside to Diagon Alley. She hurried to keep up with him, ignoring the curious glances the patrons sent their way.

"You're coming with me then," he decided.

"Excuse me? I'm doing _what_?" She felt the anger rise again. Was he really expecting her to just follow him without knowing where they were going? _He must be so full of himself to believe I won't protest,_ she thought angrily. "I won't move a muscle until you start answering my questions," she said, stopping half-way down the hallway that led to the courtyard in the back.

A witch on her way to Diagon Alley shot them a curious look, and Snape backtracked a few steps until they were face to face. _Or face to chest, it really depends on perspective,_ Hermione thought dryly, when she found herself staring into Snape's chest rather than his face because he was so close again that she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes.

"What?"

"You heard me," she hissed. "I am old enough to decide for myself, in both the Muggle _and_ the wizarding world, what I want to do. I _could_ decide to leave now and never come back. I _could_ decide I wanted to go to Hogwarts after all. I _could_ decide to go back to my parents' house." She paused. "I _could_ decide to go with you. But why should I?"

He stared at her, his expression a mixture of disbelief, anger and something she could place. She stared back, not ready to back down and give in.

After a few minutes of silent staring, Hermione began to feel uncomfortable. She knew she was being unreasonable, but she was determined not to give Snape the satisfaction of winning their little staring contest.

"I had a couple of hard months. I was kidnapped, and tortured, and raped. I thought things could go back to normal once I was safe. But they didn't." She swallowed, but still didn't look away. "I cannot make a move without either Ron or Harry or you following me. Or all three of you. I have to lie to everyone because they don't know, and the Order can't let them risk finding out. I haven't had a decent night of sleep since the start of the year. A prophecy is basically dictating my whole life, and on top of all sits Albus Dumbledore, smiling his crazy knowing smile at me, and I just want to hit him to make him stop smiling because it annoys me so much." She paused, startled, because Snape was actually smiling.

She frowned. "Actually, I don't think my life going down the drain is that entertaining," she said icily. "Don't you understand?" Her voice was faltering, and she swallowed again. The smile had disappeared, and Snape was looking at her with… compassion? She wanted to turn away, and hide her tears, but found that she couldn't.

"My world is falling apart," she sobbed. "I went home for Christmas because… because I thought-"

She couldn't go on. She had hoped that she could forget everything once she was back at her childhood home. She had always felt safe at home. She had her books, and her parents, and nothing could happen to her when her dad wrapped his arms around her and held her. And now it had all gone terribly wrong, and she wasn't safe there anymore.

"I heard my parents talking. They don't want me anymore. They said I'm not their daughter anymore." She could no longer see. Tears flooded her eyes and blurred her vision. "And Harry and Ron are great, really. They try very hard to make things easy for me… but – they don't _understand_. I thought that at least Harry would understand what it means to be touched by the darkness. That he would understand that it changes people. And makes them feel... separated. That once the darkness has touched you, it is difficult to stop it. It's hard to get up every day, and to talk and to pretend that things are alright. It's hard to live and not give in to it. It's like being sucked into an abyss, and you can't escape. But you try, every day, but you still find yourself nearer to the edge every second. And you try so very hard not to fall, but there's nothing to keep you back." She finally cracked. "Nothing to hold you." Tears were running down her cheeks, and she averted her eyes. Suddenly, she felt very self-conscious. It felt like everyone in the bar was staring at her, and although they couldn't possibly have heard what she'd said, she thought that they all _must_ have heard somehow.

Snape stepped slightly to the right, blocking her view of the bar. He touched her cheek lightly, then put a hand under her chin, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's okay to feel that way."

He leaned down to her and placed a kiss on her forehead, his lips barely touching her skin. Then he pulled her into his arms and held her. "I just want to help you," he whispered into her ear. "Will you come with me?"

She simply nodded, her head still buried in his shoulder.

"I was planning to take the Knight Bus and have a talk while we were on our way, but I think it's better if I just Apparate us out of here." He paused. "Are you alright with that?"

She nodded again, and tightened her grip. He wrapped his arms around her, and under the curious glances of the Leaky Cauldron's patrons, the two figures disappeared.

Hermione leaned against Snape, breathing in the earthy smell. She didn't let go, even though she knew they had arrived and she didn't necessarily _need_ to hold on to Snape.

"We need to walk the rest of the way," Snape said with his head buried in her hair. Hermione shivered a little. They were really _close_, and she was afraid. Not afraid that it might feel wrong and awkward, but because it didn't. It felt oddly comforting, and familiar, to be embraced by Snape.

_I probably should start calling him Severus,_ she thought, reluctantly releasing him. Snape – Severus stepped back, but didn't let go of her hand.

"There are Anti-Apparition wards on the grounds," Severus explained. "But it's not far."

Hermione simply nodded. Her cheeks felt still wet, and she wiped the tears away with her free hand. She looked around, but all she could see were trees and some more trees, mostly fir trees and pine trees. They seemed to be in a coniferous forest. Unlike in London, here was actually snow covering ground and trees. The air was clear and dry, and not unpleasantly cold. She didn't want to think about it, but couldn't help noticing that the warmth coming from Severus' hand was enough to keep her from freezing.

After a two minute walk, the trees got fewer, and she could finally see the house. It was not an ancient manor, or a medieval castle, but an ordinary, modern house. Of course, it was huge, and the next-door-neighbours seemed to be at least 10 kilometres away, but it was still a normal house.

"Surprised?" Severus asked. "I had some workers tear down the manor after… after I joined the order. I didn't want to live in the house I spent my childhood in."

Hermione looked up at him, seeing a pensive expression on his face. "What was it like? Your childhood, I mean?"

Severus looked at her shortly, and she was afraid that he wouldn't answer her, but tell her off and take points for insolence. But he merely shrugged.

"Normal, I suppose. My mother was very creative. She taught me all about Potions. And Father always practised spells with me." He chuckled.

Hermione could only stare. Severus Snape, the man who had practically invented the scowl, was chuckling in her presence. It was disturbing, in a way. But it also made him look more like a man, and not the professor she'd known for so long.

"I did not have an abusive family, and trust me, none of the stories is true!" Severus continued; obviously he hadn't noticed her bewildered stare – or he ignored it.

They reached the front door, and Severus opened the door with a simple unlocking spell.

"Shouldn't you at least use a password?" Hermione asked.

"I did," he replied. "The lock responds only to me, and a few selected others. Besides, there are mostly Muggles living in this area, and no one else knows where I live. The house is unplottable."

"Where are we, anyway?" Hermione asked, when Severus held the door open for her. She stepped inside.

"Near Durham, not that far from Hogwarts, actually," he smiled.

Hermione did a double take to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Severus Snape was smiling a genuine smile. Next he would start dancing and wearing clothes that are not black. She shook her head and finally entered.

The first thing she saw was the black and white checked floor (most definitely marble) and the grand wooden staircase leading up to the first floor. Apart from that, the hall was rather small and unremarkable.

Severus helped her out of her coat and stored it in the small cupboard next to the door. "I don't

have any house elves here. I'm afraid we'll have to do everything ourselves."

"I don't mind," she said absently. She had just noticed the French door leading into a nicely furnished sitting room. It was all so different from what she had imagined it would be like. No black walls and heavy velvet curtains greeted her, but cream coloured walls. The huge windows didn't even have curtains, but allowed her to see directly in to the garden. She stepped into the room and looked around. There were no pictures or paintings, and even the shelves looked strangely naked. Of course, there were books – lots of books – but no knick-knacks or small ornaments. She at least expected a decorative bottle of a particularly good brand of whiskey on the mantelpiece or a set of gold scales.

"Do you want me to show you around, or would you rather go and look at everything yourself?" Severus asked from where he stood in the doorway. Noticing her surprised expression, he shifted uncomfortably. "I only use it when my family visits. Normally, I sit in my study. It's down the hall." He pointed towards another door. "Why don't you have a look at everything and I take your belongings upstairs to the bedroom."

Alarmed, Hermione raised her head. "Bedroom?" She felt a burst of panic. Surely he didn't expect her to sleep in his room?

"The guest bedroom, yes. It's the first door on the left." If he noticed her short burst of panic, he ignored it. Hermione was slightly thankful that he didn't make it more embarrassing as it already was.

Snape left, and she was on her own. Casting one last glance around the impersonal room, she started down the hallway. She opened the first door to her right and found herself in a bathroom. It was only a small guest bathroom, and didn't have a shower or a bathtub in it. Considering that it was directly next to the sitting room, she was not surprised. _Severus wouldn't want people all over his place, even if they were family,_ she mused.

On the opposite side was the kitchen. It was huge compared to the kitchen at home. Biting her lip, Hermione tried to distract herself from the bad memories that thought brought up. She inspected the fridge and opened a few cupboards. She was a bit disappointed that the house seemed to be fairly Muggle so far. She hadn't seen anything magic at all. There even was a normal coffee machine and a non-magical toaster sitting on the sideboard.

Then there was only one room left to inspect. Severus' study. She opened the door and gasped. The room was about the same size as the sitting room, but looked much more like a sitting room than the other – impersonal and sterile – one.

Two royal blue sofas sat facing each other in one corner, with a comfortable looking armchair on one side. In another corner a huge mahogany desk was loaded with folders and loose pieces of paper. As in the sitting room, bookshelves lined the walls. Now she realised what had seemed a bit off about the books in the sitting room. They looked as if no one had read ever them, whereas the book in this room were well-worn. In fact, the leather cover of some books was so worn out that she couldn't decipher the title and had to open the book to read it. On one side of the room was a large glass cabinet, where various items were on display. She recognised some Dark Arts Artefacts that were highly illegal, but thought it was just fitting perfectly. After all, this was Severus Snape's study.

But probably the most remarkable thing was the far wall of the room. The entire wall consisted of glass. The view was overwhelming. She supposed it would be a lot better in summer, but it was stunning enough in winter. In fact, the snow covered landscape held a beauty she had seldomly seen. In the distance, there were trees of all sorts, and she had no doubt that they were part of the forest they had Apparated into. A small lake was situated halfway down the way to the forest, and the iced over surface glistered in the light of the setting sun. It was late, and soon it would be completely dark outside.

She checked her watch. It was barely half past five, but she was hungry. She decided to go to the kitchen, and maybe make some sandwiches.

End Chapter Seven

A/N: I know that this chapter is very short, and I apologise for it. I had a few Harry/Draco scenes (about two pages) in it, but then I decided that I had enough to do without them complicating my plotlines even more. I simply can't deal with another sub-plot right now. I also know that I'm neglecting the prophecy a bit, but I haven't forgotten about it. The subject of divination will come up again when they are back at Hogwarts, and Hermione will have to rethink her position towards the Art of Seeing.

If this and the former chapter seem a bit boring…(and my beta said they were!)… well, as I said, I try to build up a certain atmosphere for the fic, and it's important to outline Severus and Hermione's relationship very clearly.

And some general information: Although this story is SS/HG, there won't be any sex scenes for some time. Please keep in mind that Hermione has been through a lot, and having an intimate relationship with about anyone would be highly unlikely for her. She feels comfortable with Snape around, even safe, but she's not read to start something more (again). At some point, she will regain her lost memories, and might start falling in love…

Chapter Eight: It's New Year's Eve, and there will be some kissing! (yes, I know I'm contradicting what I said above, but there are good reasons…) We have a few visitors and also some more darkness. (And chapter eight will be very very very long!)

Disclaimer. See chapter one.

Now, I want to thank you for your reviews. One of you said something about my betas missing a lot, well, I can explain that: My one beta, Corazon, only started reading this story a few weeks ago. She has a lot to do, and she really tries to be as fast as possible. But so far, she's only managed to beta chapters one to three, and is working on chapter four. Of course I could wait until she's caught up with me, but I don't think you'd really want to wait that long J. Plus, I write really fast sometimes and have parts of future chapters outlined and written, but they need editing. And it's a bit overwhelming if you just started betaing chapter four and someone presents you with an outline and scenes for chapter twelve.

My other beta, onduril, only does this for me because we are friends from school. She is German, like me, and probably misses some things or makes the same mistakes I make. So, if you are bothered by my mistakes, I'm sorry. I hope it doesn't keep you from enjoying the story. If the mistakes are just minor flaws, please just ignore them. Otherwise, if I write something completely unacceptable, just tell me and I try and fix it asap.

So, now on with it. Go review!

donotsrock.


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Hermione woke with a start. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. After a few seconds, she recognised the now familiar shapes of Severus' guest bedroom, and lay back down with a sigh.

A little over a week had passed since he had brought her to his home. Christmas had been an awkward affair.

Severus persuaded her to write to her parents, and after a long discussion she finally agreed. She sent a short note, telling them that she was alright and that their presents were upstairs under the bed in her room. When the owl returned, there was a present for her and a long letter from her mum. She didn't read the letter, but she unpacked the present. Not surprisingly, her parents sent her a few books. Oddly enough, this year she would have liked something different.

The presents from her friends were predictable. There was a self-made cake from Hagrid, a small photo album from Harry (with lots of photos from their sixth year), a new set of quills from Ron and lots of sweets from other people in her year. She also received a pair of socks from the headmaster. She felt a little guilty about not getting him anything – but then again, Dumbledore had never before given her anything, so it wasn't surprising that she didn't have anything to give in return.

The atmosphere was a bit tense that day, since neither of them was comfortable with the Holiday. There weren't any decorations, but she didn't mind. In fact, she thought she couldn't handle a fully-fledged Christmas that year.

That night, they sat in silence, neither knowing what to say. She had made him a present, but she wasn't sure if she should give it to him. She felt silly – her present for him was a self-made calendar, personalised and colour coded. She had one herself, and Severus had commented on how practical it was. So she had made him one. But at that moment, it seemed childish and awkward.

Finally, Severus reached into his pocket and handed her a present. Relieved, she handed over hers as well. She watched him unpack the calendar, and immediately knew that it had been the right present. Severus inspected the calendar from all sides until he opened it. He wrote his name onto the first page, and the script flashed brightly orange for a second. That was a charm that prevented anyone but the owner to read the entries being activated. He thanked her, and then waited for her to unpack.

Hesitantly, she had pulled off the wrapping. She just hoped that it wasn't anything romantic. She wasn't sure she could deal with that.

She had been surprised. Severus had given her a knife. And not just a knife to chop potion ingredients – a real knife, one that was made for combat. The handle was made of dark, almost black, wood, with her initials, surrounded by little stars, craved into it. The blade was about eight inches long, both sides sharpened. The metal it was made out of was unlike anything she knew. It had an odd colour – a dark grey that changed to a dark blue or a complete black when you moved it in the light. It had been the best present of all.

Glancing at the bedside table, she frowned and shook off the memory. It was eight thirty already. Normally, she and Severus would be in the lab already, preparing ingredients for the day. Over the last week they had fallen into a routine of daily potions making. They would start early and prepare ingredients, then brew several potions and experiment with variations of other potions.

She took a closer look at her alarm clock and noticed that the alarm was turned off. _Why didn't he wake me up?_ she wondered. A bit miffed, she dressed quickly and went down into the kitchen.

On her way downstairs, she passed the lab. It was not, as she had expected before her arrival, in the dungeons, but on the first floor, opposite the bedrooms. The first time she saw it she just stood there with her mouth open, gaping speechlessly at the enormous room that stretched over the whole side of the building. On one side, there were cauldrons of every size and material lined up on long rows of tables, with working spaces in between. Another wall was hidden behind high wooden shelves containing all kinds of potion ingredients. Drying plants hung from the ceiling, and in one corner there were several sacks filled with already dried herbs. On the side facing the door, several cages and terrariums for various animals sat, and the window-sills were packed with flowerpots of varying sizes, different kinds of plants stretched out towards the sun.

Severus had explained that the humid air in dungeons normally caused the ingredients to become mouldy and that it needed special spells to prevent that. He thought it wasn't worth the trouble to do those spells at home since he spend most of his time at Hogwarts.

Hermione walked into the kitchen and found Severus bent over some scrolls. He didn't look up to greet her, but she knew he wasn't being rude on purpose. He was probably so enthralled by what he was reading that he hadn't noticed her yet.

Quietly, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Severus looked up.

"Good morning. You are awake already?"

"Hmm," she said, swallowing her coffee quickly. She hadn't noticed it was still so hot. Breathing through her mouth, she tried to cool her tongue a bit. "Someone," she started after a while, "turned off the alarm. I wonder who it was…"

Severus looked up again. "I thought you could use a bit of extra sleep." His expression was serious when he continued. "How long have you been having these nightmares?"

Hermione looked down. Two nights ago, she had woken up screaming. Only seconds later, Severus had stormed in, wand at the ready. She had been forced to tell him about her nightmares.

"I don't know," she said warily.

"Hermione." She didn't even have to look up to know his expression had changed from serious to reproachful.

"A month," she said. "Maybe two."

"Have you seen Madam Pomfrey?"

She nodded. "She gave me a potion. It worked – but only as long as I took it." She hadn't gone back to Madam Pomfrey. The older witch asked many questions, and she didn't know if she wanted to answer them.

Severus didn't reply. He was studying the scrolls again, but she was sure he would want to talk about it again.

Hermione finished her coffee and put the empty mug into the sink. "Are we going to work today?" she asked, leaning against the table.

Severus nodded. "Yes, but I need to translate this first." He pointed towards the scrolls. "You can start, if you want."

Hermione nodded eagerly.

"I wanted to try a variation of the Wolfsbane Potion today," Severus continued. "Lupin says that he is feeling more restless before and after the full moon, and I thought that he might develop a resistance against the potion. If we change the ingredients, his body will have to adjust before it can start resisting again. That will buy us time to find a permanent fix."

"So, what do I have to do?"

Severus started to look uneasy. "Maybe I should do it. It's a bit-"

"Severus! I can handle your delicate ingredients," she said. "It's not as if I'm incompetent."

"I know. It's not that." He met her eyes. "We'll need a lizard's eyes and the heart of a mouse."

"Okay," she said. _That doesn't sound too hard._

"They have to be fresh," Severus added. "In fact, the lizard has to be alive when the eyes are removed, and the mouse mustn't be killed by magic. You can't use anaesthetics either, because they would get into the mouse's blood circle and into its heart. From there they would go into the potion and ruin it." He narrowed his eyes. She did not look away. "Do you think you can do that? Kill a mouse and hurt another animal?"

Hermione swallowed. She had never killed an animal, not even by accident. Her dad had run over a cat once when they were on their way home from a visit at her grandparents', and she had cried all the way home. But she'd been seven, and she was older now. She knew that mice didn't live too long anyway, and Lupin needed this potion. Not only for his safety, but for others as well.

She nodded. "I can do it."

"Very well, then. I'll be up in an hour," Severus said. "A list of ingredients is on my desk."

Hermione turned and went upstairs. _At least  now I have a reason to put Severus' present to use. _

Hermione was pacing. The ingredients of a Wolfsbane Potion were similar to a Polyjuice Potion. They were the basic ingredients used in every potion that had to do with human transformations. She had prepared the fluxweed (that had been picked at a new moon instead of a full moon), the powdered bicorn horn, the leech juice and of course she had chopped the monkshood, along with other herbs and plants. The only things that were missing were the lizard eyes and the heart of the mouse.

She swallowed. Carefully, she lifted one of the lizards out of their terrarium and carried it over to the workbench. She didn't want to hurt the animal more than necessary, so she quickly tied it to the table and raised the knife. She needed to cut around the eye and then remove the eyeballs without damaging the iris. It should be easy enough. She swallowed again and gripped the handle of her knife tighter, her hand hovering ten inches over the lizard.

The force of the memory hit her so hard that she almost fainted. One second, she was standing over the work table, and the next moment, she was back in the dank dungeon, being tied to a table. A hooded Death Eater was standing over her, and he seemed to be grinning through the ugly mask. She shivered, and then she saw a flash of bright silver. He had a knife. But just when she thought he was going to cut her, hurt her with that knife, another Death Eater came in, dragging a girl with him. She seemed to be a bit younger than Hermione, and she was crying. Hermione didn't have any tears left. Then the man with the knife laughed, and went over to the girl. He told her to watch. He pinned the girl down with his weight and gripped the knife firmly. Then he cut out her eyes. She couldn't look away – the other one forced her to watch. The girl screamed and wailed and pleaded. In the end, they cut her throat.

The clattering sound of her knife falling to the ground brought her back to reality. She blinked away the tears and the shame. She hadn't done anything to help the girl. She was disgusting. And now she planned to do the very same thing to an innocent animal. She knew what the lizard was feeling, being tied to a table and threatened with a knife. She knew how much it hurt to be cut and cut and cut, again and again and again. How could she even consider doing such a horrible and disgusting thing?

_Professor Lupin needs this potion,_ the logical part of her mind tried to reason. _He could hurt innocents if he wasn't restrained in some way. _

"Then why not lock him up in a cell deep underground, where no one will find him?", she whispered. At the same time she knew that she didn't mean that. She couldn't let Lupin hurt and kill innocent bystanders, but she couldn't let him hurt himself either.

_It's inhumane, locking him up like an animal,_ the voice of reason said. _He's your friend. And sometimes, we must make sacrifices for our friends.  _

She nodded slowly, and bent to pick up the knife. _It's just an animal,_ she repeated over and over in her head.

_Basically a lower life form, _the voice added.

Hermione froze. _I'm just like them,_ she thought with horror. _I will hurt and kill, all because I think it's a small sacrifice for a greater good. I'm just like them._

"I'm just like them," she whispered. She couldn't afford not to be. She raised the knife.

After she had made the first cut, it went easier. It took her only five attempts to cut the eyes out of the lizard's skull. The animal writhed and wriggled, but she held it firmly in place. Once she had the eyes removed from the animal, she put them into a jar filled with a mixture of brine and leech juice. Later, when the lizard eyes had dissolved in the liquid, it would be added to the potion.

She healed the animals wounds and carefully put it back into the terrarium. "I'm sorry," she said.

When she cleaned her knife, she felt strangely detached from herself. Her whole body was numb, yet tense. She knew it had been necessary, and she knew that there was no one that would hold it against her that she hurt the lizard. But it was the fact that she didn't feel more horrified and disgusted with herself that made her frown. Maybe she really was as horrible as those Death Eaters.

She went over to the mouse cage and knelt down, her head now on one level with the mice. "Now, which of you wants to go?" she asked, and opened the cage door. The mice seemed to sense the danger emanating from her. They all shied away when she tried to touch them, and they squeaked loudly. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this." She grabbed the nearest mouse. It tried to free itself, and even managed to bite her finger. She cursed and grabbed the leather straps to tie down the wriggling animal. After consulting the book, she knew where she had to cut and how deep she could go before she could uncover the heart.

She worked quickly and efficiently. The mouse squeaked loudly when she started, but died shortly afterwards. Against the white fur of the mouse and the pale colour of her hands, the blood was shockingly red, and outright hot. And there was a lot of it. She hadn't known that an animal that small could have so much blood in it.

"Consider it not so deeply," she murmured quietly to herself, quoting from her favourite Shakespearean play.[1]

Soon enough her hands were bloody, and the tiny heart lay in her palm. She though she could almost feel it still beating. Shaking her head, she put the heart into a bowl and covered it with the bicorn horn powder. That way, the powder's magical energy seeped into the heartstrings of the mouse and made it a powerful agent in the reaction.

She wiped her hands off with a towel and then wrapped the mouse's body with the blood-stained cloth. She carefully lifted the bundle and went downstairs. She wanted to bury it properly in the garden. Perhaps near the old oak tree that stood by the lake. Although she had the feeling that she wouldn't need to ask for permission, she thought it would only be polite to ask if she could bury the mouse on his grounds.

She had to push the kitchen door open with her shoulder since her arms were full. "Severus, I wanted to ask-" She broke off. Severus wasn't alone in the kitchen. 

Remus Lupin was sitting at the table, a cup of steaming hot tea in front of him. Severus had shoved the scrolls aside and was taking notes about what Lupin told him. She assumed they were talking about his lycanthropy.

Both men had looked up when she had entered the kitchen, and they were now staring at her.

She bit her lip. She was sure that no one knew about her and Severus' former relationship, but she didn't know if they knew she was visiting him. But knowing Severus and the headmaster, and judging from Lupin's bewildered stare, she was pretty sure that no one knew where she spent her holidays.

"Hermione?" he finally asked.

She nodded, and said weakly, "Hello, Remus."

She shot a glance at Severus. He was scowling, and, upon her questioning gaze, nodded towards the bundle in her arms. She looked down. Of course, the mouse. She had forgotten all about that.

"What are you doing here?" Lupin asked, his gaze drifting from Hermione's face to the bloody bundle in her arms, and to Severus.

"I was," she started, but then stopped. What should she say? _Killing a mouse so that its heart could be used in a potion that prevents you from killing anyone?_

"Preparing the ingredients," Severus said, drawing Lupin's attention towards him.

_Or that,_ she thought dryly.

"And what kinds of ingredients require the one preparing them to carry dead animals through the house?" Lupin asked, his voice cold. He stared at Severus accusingly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Ingredients of the Wolfsbane Potion," she said sharply, before Severus started insulting Lupin. "And before you asked, I volunteered to prepare them."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen, and into the gardens.

"And there I was, thinking that you were the one with a brain," Severus sneered. "But between Black and Potter and that snivelling Pettigrew, it probably wasn't very hard to come off as intelligent."

Remus turned his gaze from the door where Hermione had been only seconds before to the Potions Master. Severus' face was expressionless, but in his eyes, Remus could see hatred and contempt.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know she was here." That was true. He hadn't known. Dumbledore had told him that she was somewhere safe, but he had obviously forgotten to mention that 'somewhere safe' was Severus Snape's house.

The first second after Hermione's entry, he had panicked. He had smelled blood on her, and had been alarmed. But then he had realised it wasn't human blood, but animal blood. But still, seeing Hermione with bloody hands and smelling of blood had been shocking.

"You stay here," Severus said and rose from his chair. He put his quill down and went to the door. "And don't touch anything," he called, already leaving the room.

Remus sat for a moment. Hermione Granger was spending her Christmas Holidays at Severus Snape's house. It was hard to understand why she would want to. And he did not doubt that she did want to. She had been smiling when she entered the room, and she had called him 'Severus'. Even he was not delusional enough to assume they still hated each other.

_A friendship with the greasy git,_ he mused. _Harry and Ron would be disgusted. _He smiled. Those two had always been narrow-minded. They only saw black and white, but couldn't grasp the shades of grey in between. Being a werewolf, he knew what it meant to be supposedly evil. It was the same with Slytherins. Because of what they were, everyone assumed they were evil. He knew how hard it was to overcome these prejudices, and how easy it was to give in to it instead. After all, it was far easier to be what people expect you to be than to prove them wrong and gain their respect and trust.

He tilted his head to the side, but he couldn't hear them talking. They were probably outside.

Careful not to touch anything, Remus went into Severus' study. From there, he could overlook almost all of the grounds and a part of the forest.

He spotted them immediately. Hermione was kneeling beside a tree by the frozen lake. Her shoulders were shaking. She was either cold, or crying. _Or both,_ he thought. _And it's my fault._

Severus' black coat was billowing behind him as he crossed the grounds as fast as he could.

He reached Hermione's kneeling form and placed a coat over her shoulders, crouching down next to her. They seemed to be talking, and then Severus drew his wand.

Hermione ran. She ran until she couldn't breathe anymore, then she slumped down on her knees and started to cry. She was still holding the mouse's body, so she couldn't wipe away the tears that were tickling her. But she didn't mind.

It was icy outside, and her trousers started to soak with cold, wet snow. Her throat hurt from crying and breathing in the dry winter air, but she still didn't mind.

She didn't move – she couldn't. She had forgotten her wand, and without it, she couldn't bury the mouse. The ground was frozen and covered with ice and snow. She could hardly dig a hole with her bare hands.

Then Severus was there. He knelt down beside her and put a warm cloak around her shoulders.

"Shh," he said soothingly, and carefully stroke her back. It didn't hurt because her whole body was numb from the cold. "You wanted to bury it?" he asked, and she knew that he didn't expect an answer. She nodded nevertheless.

He took out his wand and murmured a spell. The snow and ice melted away and soon, a small hole appeared in the ground. He carefully took the bundle and laid it down gently. Then he covered it with earth.

Only then did she look up, and found him watching her. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. She didn't know what she was sorry for. Was she sorry for killing the animal, or was it because she was making an embarrassing scene? Or was it maybe because she let Lupin know she was here? In the end she decided that it hardly mattered.

"I know," he simply said, and stood up. He helped her to her feet, and together they stared into the distance.

"I didn't think I could do it," she finally admitted. "I always thought I could never-" Her voice faltered and then broke.

He didn't reply but continued to stare at something out of her sight.

"Does it get easier?" she asked, and shifted from one foot to the other. Her legs were cold, and she was still shaking. She drew the cloak tighter around her.

Severus still didn't reply.

"I am just like them," she whispered.

Severus' head whipped around. "No, you are not," he said sharply, making her flinch. "Hermione, listen. You are nothing like these monsters. You did what was necessary, and you didn't enjoy it. You did it because it was the lesser of two evils. You had to choose between killing one innocent being or endangering hundreds of others." Severus paused and drew in a breath. "You just proved that you weren't like them, just by doubting yourself, and doubting your actions."

Hermione thought about it, and found that he was right. She was _not_ like them. She was _not_ a monster.

They fell silent again, and she moved a bit closer to him. She was still cold, and she remembered the warmth Severus could emanate. Her hand brushed his, and he shot her a sideway glance. She took his hand.

"Can we go back inside?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied. "We should get started on the potion soon."

She nodded, and together they went back into the house.

Remus watched them, fascinated. He had never seen Severus react like that. They were now harder to make out because they were sitting so close together. He couldn't tell where Hermione stopped and Severus began. After a while, they stood up, but neither of them moved away. 

They seemed to be talking.

Remus frowned. _Are they holding hands?_

He went back into the kitchen, pretending he hadn't watched them. Thoughts were spinning in his mind, images of Hermione and  Snape, together at Order meetings, flashed before his eyes. Now that he thought about it, they always seemed to sit close together. Of course, Harry and Ron were always flanking Hermione, but Snape was never far away from her, and usually, the two of them arrived together, while Harry travelled with the headmaster, and Ron accompanied an Order member from Hogsmeade. He'd always thought that was coincidental, but now… He would, of course subtly, ask Harry and Ron if Snape was often around them, and Hermione especially.

The kitchen door opened and Hermione came in. Her red face was stained with dried tears, and she was biting her lip. Severus stood behind her, and Remus had the strong suspicion that he was somehow touching, holding her.

"Remus, I'm sorry," she burst out. "I was just-" She broke off, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Remus was shocked. Hermione Granger was one of the most calm and composed people he ever met, and she hadn't even cried after her rescue, as far as he knew.

Severus placed a hand on her shoulder, and she calmed down a bit. "Maybe you should go and clean yourself up, Miss Granger," he said. "I have special soap in my bathroom upstairs."

"Yes, Professor," she said in a flat voice. She still sounded very upset, and left without another word.

Severus came back to the table and gathered his scrolls and his notebook in his arms. "I'm afraid you'll have to go now, Lupin," he said, his voice the usual cold sneer.

"No," Remus said, surprising even himself. "I want to know what's going on. Is Hermione alright?"

"And again you manage to destroy all evidence of your intelligence by asking the stupidest questions," Severus said. "Of course she is not alright!"

"Why is she here? And why are you two so… chummy all of a sudden? Does Dumbledore know of this?" he asked, standing up.

"It's the safest place for her at the moment," Severus said, putting the scrolls and sheets of paper into a bag. "And that's none of your business."

Remus exploded. "Of course it is my business!" he yelled. "She's-"

"Yes, Lupin. Pray tell, what exactly is she to you?" Severus shot back.

"I… I," Remus stammered. He didn't know what to say. She had been his student, but she was Severus' student, too. She was a friend of Harry's, but that didn't put him in a position where he could judge her or her actions. So far, it didn't seem as if she was here against her will. It was just that he cared for the girl, and he didn't want to see her hurt.

"Exactly," Severus said, his eyes clouded with emotion. It was then that Remus realised that Severus cared for her, too. Maybe more than he could imagine. And by the looks of it, she cared for him as well.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Severus opened the kitchen door. "I trust you know the way out."

Remus nodded. "I will talk to the headmaster about this," he said. He still wasn't convinced that Hermione's staying at  Severus' house was a good idea.

Severus didn't answer.

They had worked in silence, and only made a short pause to eat lunch.

Hermione checked the watch while the potion was simmering. "We have to add the knoxgrass in two hours and twenty-seven minutes," she said. Until then, the potion had to simmer without being disturbed.

Severus just nodded, and pointed at a plate to cover the cauldron with. He was busy cleaning the ginger roots.

Suddenly, a voice from downstairs could be heard. "Severus!" He almost let go of the roots.

Hermione groaned. "Not another visitor!"

Severus merely grunted. "That one will be worse than Lupin," he finally said.

The voice called again, "SEVERUS!"

"It's my sister," he explained, his expression pained. He was clearly not very eager to see her.

"Your sister?" Hermione asked. "But why-" She broke off.

"Why would she come and visit me?" Severus finished dryly, a thin smile on his lips. "You see, where I come from it's customary to visit one's family once in a while," he said, clearly teasing her. She was still amazed at how different he was from the Snape she knew as her teacher.

"You know that's not what I meant," she said indignantly. "I was just wondering why everyone seems to pick today to pay you a visit."

"Well, Lupin was here because it's the full moon the day after tomorrow," he said. "He wanted to know if the potion was ready. He always comes by a day or two before the full moon to collect it."

"And your sister?" she asked, curious despite herself. "What is she like?"

"SEVERUS!!!" the voice bellowed. "I KNOW YOU ARE HOME, SO COME DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT!"

"Well, obviously, she's very loud," he said, chuckling. "She comes by once or twice a year, I don't really know why." He dried his hands and checked on the potion. "We'd better get down there, or she'll come upstairs."

Still curious, Hermione followed Severus down the stairs into the sitting room. As soon as he stepped through the door, the woman – his sister – started talking.

"Severus, there you are. Have all those potion fumes finally impaired your hearing? I called three or four times until you heard me! I-"

"I heard you just fine, Cecily," he said, "I just chose to ignore you."

Severus' sister huffed indignantly. "Of course you did. Always the charmer, right, Sev?" Her gaze fell upon Hermione, who was still standing in the doorway. "And who's that? Don't you want to introduce me to your… friend?"

"Yes," Severus said, stepping aside. "Cecily, this is Hermione Granger, a… colleague of mine. Hermione, my sister Cecily Snape."

Hermione stepped inside and extended her hand. Cecily shook it, and Hermione could feel the woman's eyes scrutinise her.

"You seem very young," she finally said. "How long have you two been – working – together?"

Hermione heard the hesitation in the woman's voice, and couldn't blame her. She knew what it must look like – and if she was honest, it was highly inappropriate that she was staying at a teacher's over Christmas, especially under the circumstances of their former relationship.

"Not very long, Miss Snape," she said. "I just finished school."

"And now you are working with Severus," she murmured, "in the holidays." That was directed against her brother, who ignored it.

"Do you want some tea, Cecily?"

"Yes, please." Cecily pursed her lips. "Do you still drink that horrible blend?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Well then, it's still better than coffee. Mother always says that only barbarians – and Americans – drink coffee," Cecily said, sitting down on the sofa.

Hermione's head started spinning. The woman was talking too much, and too fast. While she wasn't exactly quiet herself, she still had never heard anyone talk that fast without breathing in between.

Severus excused himself and went into the kitchen, and Hermione was left on her own.

"So, Miss – Granger, wasn't it? – where do you come from? How did you meet Severus? And what exactly are you two working on?" she asked, and it all came out as one huge sentence.

Hermione was saved by the doorbell. She quickly excused herself and went to open it. She shortly wondered why everyone seemed to pick this day to visit.

She opened to door and came face to face with an old lady in a black cloak. Neither of them said anything; the lady seemed surprised to see her.

"Who are you?" Hermione finally asked.

"Who are you?" the lady asked back, her voice unfriendly and cold.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Whoever she was, she was making her already hard day not easier to endure.

The old lady cleared her throat. "I was under the impression that my son lived here. Alone."

Hermione sucked in a breath. That was Severus' mother! "You are Severus' mother," she said, and mentally kicked herself for saying such a stupidly obvious thing. 

"Indeed," the old lady said. "How perceptive of you to notice."

_Well, sarcasm seems to run in the family,_ she thought. 

"Are we going to stand outside all day, or are you going to let me in?" Mrs. Snape asked impatiently. "You are blocking the doorway, Miss!" She already made Hermione feel like a two-year-old.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Snape," she said hastily, and stepped aside. "I didn't know you would be coming, too."

Mrs. Snape arched an eyebrow. "Why? Who else is here?"

"Your daughter, Mrs. Snape," Hermione said. "She arrived a few minutes ago. Severus is making tea." She felt stupid. She had been rude to Severus' mother, not seeing the obvious relation between them.

While Mrs. Snape took off her cloak, Hermione studied her. The nose and the eyebrows were distinctively prominent in Severus' features as well.

"I'll go and tell Severus that you are here," she said, and wanted to go, but Mrs. Snape held her back.

"Wait a minute, girl."

Hermione turned around. "Yes?"

"My son… you are a friend of his?" she asked. It was clear that she had wanted to ask if she was something more, too. But Hermione decided to ignore it.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," she answered.

The old woman's eyes narrowed. "What's your name?"

"Hermione Granger."

A frown appeared on Mrs. Snape's forehead. "Granger… Do I know your parents?"

"I doubt it," Hermione said, smiling. "They are dentists."

"Muggles!" Mrs. Snape exclaimed. Hermione wasn't sure if she was just surprised, or appalled.

"Yes, Mrs. Snape. My parents are Muggles," she said loudly, anger starting to rise. "And I really hope that you don't have a problem with that, otherwise this afternoon might be a bit strained."

Mrs. Snape's expression changed. "You don't know," she murmured, her voice sad.

"Don't know what?" Hermione demanded to know. The woman was starting to irritate her.

"Don't you know what he is, child?"

Hermione froze. She did know. But she also knew that he was different. He wasn't a monster.

Slowly, Hermione raised her head a bit and looked her in the eyes. Mrs. Snape seemed to be genuinely concerned.

"I do know," she finally said. "Severus is a good man, and I trust him."

The sound of someone clearing their throat made them turn around. Severus was standing in the hall.

"Mother," he greeted. "Hermione. Tea is ready." His voice was devoid of emotion, as usual, but Hermione knew that he had heard her.

Mrs. Snape entered the sitting room, leaving her and Severus alone. For a minute, there was silence, then Hermione spoke, softly, "I meant it, you know."

The hours went by slowly. Mrs. Snape and Cecily were asking hundreds of questions, and Hermione did have the feeling that both women didn't like her particularly well. It only got worse every time Severus left the room to check on the Wolfsbane Potion.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, Mrs. Snape stood up and announced her departure. Hermione could see that Cecily would have loved to stay, but a cold glare from her mother made her stand up, too.

"Yes," she agreed. "I'd better go, too."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She and Severus accompanied the two women to the door. And while Severus said goodbye to his sister, his mother bent over to Hermione and grabbed her arm.

"I hope you now what you're getting yourself into, girl," she said in a low voice. "It may seem like a great adventure now, but I assure you that there's only pain and despair awaiting you."

Hermione smiled at her. "Mrs. Snape," she said, "I'm aware that you probably don't see him that way, but Severus _is_ a good man." She quickly glanced over at him. "If it wasn't for him, I would be dead by now. And besides, I'm already in too deep."

The old woman studied her for a moment, and then nodded. "Yes, I can see that." She sighed. "You have seen so much pain, child. I just hope that the future holds a bit of happiness for you, too."

Hermione frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Was Severus' mother a Seer? But before she could ask any of these questions, the old lady gave a curt nod in Severus' direction and followed her daughter out of the house.

Severus closed the door and exhaled loudly. "Another minute with those two and I would have taken Basilisk venom in my tea instead of lemon."

Hermione smiled weakly.

"Are you alright? You look pale," he said, concerned.

"I'm fine," Hermione said. Together they went into the lab. "Severus?"

"Hmm?"

"Is your mother a Seer?"

"Not that I know," he replied. "Why? Did she say something?" He smiled bitterly. "I mean, apart from her usual warnings and deterring stories about me."

"Not directly," Hermione said pensively. She shrugged off the uneasy feeling and concentrated on her task of powdering wolf teeth.

"She wasn't always like this," Severus said after a while. He was measuring the monkshood. "It all started, of course, with the Dark Lord's first rise. My father didn't support him, but he wasn't directly opposed to his ideas, either. In fact, he could often be heard talking about Mudbl-…Muggle-born and Muggles in a derogatory way."

She looked at him, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

"My mother was indifferent at first, or she thought that it was a 'phase'. But it wasn't. My father and I would often sit together and talk. One day he mentioned that he knew someone who knew the Dark Lord. I was intrigued.

"Shortly afterwards, I joined the Death Eaters. Mother was furious. She was afraid I would sully the family name and get myself killed in the process." Severus laughed humourlessly. "But in fact it only got my father killed."

Severus added the last ingredient and stirred the steaming liquid ten times clockwise. He put the lid back on and cleaned the worktables.

"You already told me this, haven't you?" Hermione asked carefully.

Severus nodded.

"It's okay. I don't have to know."

"Yes, you have," he shot back, the old Severus back in place, the scowl deeper than ever. "But I would prefer to have this conversation downstairs with a good glass of whiskey."

Hermione leaned back and watched the stars through the huge windows. They were sitting in Severus' study; she was snuggled down in an armchair while Severus fetched a bottle of firewhiskey and then settled down on the sofa.

"Do you want some?" he asked, holding up a second glass.

Hermione nodded. She didn't drink alcohol often, and she had never had any firewhiskey. But she had the feeling that she might need it this evening.

Severus filled their glasses and leaned back.

"My father was very proud, and he didn't back down easily. He wouldn't let anyone tell him what to do.

"My mother is very stubborn, and proud, too. She didn't agree with my choice to join the Death Eaters, and she certainly was against my father's interest in the topic. And she made sure that we knew it." Severus took a sip of his firewhiskey.

"One day, my father decided to come along. He wanted to meet the Dark Lord. So I took him with me. But unfortunately, the Aurors chose that night to conduct hundreds of raids. Our group was under surveillance. Of course they didn't know who we were because we all wore our masks, but that didn't stop them. They wanted to arrest us, and McGuiness, the fool, started a fight. We were six Death Eaters and my father against fifteen Aurors."

"Who is McGuiness?" she asked. She had never heard the name before, and she was almost sure that McGuiness was no longer among the living.

"McGuiness was just what I said, a fool. He was a year younger than me, and very idealistic. However, he is not important to this story." Severus swallowed hard. "You have to understand that the times were dark. People hardly went out after dark, and everyone was on their guard. The Aurors didn't hesitate to kill, and neither did we."

Hermione put her glass down. "Why didn't you just Disapparate?"

"Do you know how Anti-Apparition Wards work?" Severus asked back. Hermione nodded. The wards created a field of magical energy that disturbed people's elemental magic that was needed for Apparating and Disapparating.

"Well, the Aurors can erect such energy field for a short time. It is, however, long enough to surprise their opponents and kill them. Or stun them.

"When I saw my father fall, I did the only sensible thing." Severus fell silent.

"Did you… surrender?" Hermione asked hesitantly, sipping her firewhiskey.

Severus laughed harshly. "I ran."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. And her tongue felt funny.

"I didn't go home, though. I couldn't face my mother. Not after… That was the night I went to Dumbledore. I confessed, but not because I saw the error of my ways, but because I was afraid. Fear, I learned, is a very valuable thing." He downed his second glass in one huge gulp.

"And your mother?" she asked, finishing her first glass.

"She still hates me, and makes sure that I don't forget."

They sat in silence, until Hermione quietly said, "I still mean it. You _are_ a good man. And I do trust you."

Severus smiled and slowly shook his head. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

Hermione stood up and poured herself another glass. She went to the window and leaned her head against the cool glass. She could see Severus' reflection in the glass. "Tell me something," she asked, her warm breath clouding up the window.

"Tell you what?"

"Anything. Something about you." She didn't turn around, but she saw Severus shift uncomfortably on the sofa.

"Maybe you should go to bed," he said, obviously trying to distract her.

Hermione glanced at her watch. "It's not even midnight, and it's New Year's Eve. We have to stay up until after midnight!"

She turned around and found him scowling at her. She rolled her eyes and sat down beside him. "You can't scare me anymore."

"Well, if you insist." He sighed. "I spent a few months in Azkaban. The headmaster couldn't stop them from taking me there until my trial began and-"

"No." She didn't want to hear depressing stories. She wanted happy memories, stories she could remember in sad times, and laugh about.

"What?" Severus seemed confused.

"Don't you have any happy memories?" she asked pleadingly.

"Of course," he said. "What do you want to hear?"

She considered fro a moment, and then smiled. "Tell me about… Professor McGonagall. She was already teaching at Hogwarts when you went there, right?"

Severus groaned. "Do you want to make me feel old?" he asked jokingly.

"But Severus, you _are_ old…" Hermione giggled. She thought that maybe the firewhiskey had something to do with that.

"Old!" he snorted. "I'll show you old!"

And then he did the thing Hermione least expected him to do. With a predatory grin on his face, he leaned over and started tickling her. She doubled over with laughter, unable to keep a straight face.

"Mercy!" she pleaded after a few minutes, out of breath from laughing so much. Severus stopped tickling her, and she slumped forward, all the tension leaving her body. She was still giggling, and didn't even realise that Severus' body tensed under her weight.

"Hermione…" he said, trying to lift her off of him.

She looked up, and time seemed to freeze. They were incredibly close, a tangled mess of arms and legs. She could feel his breath on her skin, and his eyes seemed to pierce her very soul. She had never realised that his eyes were really as black as they seemed. She had assumed that they were a dark brown, when they were in fact deep black pools that were now full of contradicting emotions. She saw lust, but also fear and trepidation.

Later that night, she couldn't remember who had made the first move, but she assumed that she herself initiated the kiss. But that moment, she didn't care. She didn't care that she wasn't ready, and that she would only hurt herself and Severus. She didn't care that she was being unfair towards Severus.

In fact, when their lips touched, she didn't think at all.

All she could feel were Severus' lips, and his hands on her arms. She closed her eyes and savoured the feeling of warmth and comfort that enfolded her. She sneaked her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, wanting to feel his warmth.

What she didn't expect was his erection pressing against her thigh.

Alarmed, she disentangled her legs from his and stood up quickly, her heart racing in her chest. She panicked, and without giving Severus the chance to say something, she bolted out of the room and locked herself in the guestroom.

End Chapter Eight

A/N: Well, that was long.

I'm sorry if it was boring at times, but I just couldn't stop and divide it into two parts. Remus' visit was one step towards the revelation of their (so far non-existent) relationship. And Cecily and Mrs. Snape were there only because it amused me and gave a bit of a background for Severus. And in the end, all the stress led to the evening scene, and therefore the kiss. Now flame me for not going further! (And for leaving you with this awful cliffie… and knowing that the next chapter will take some time, too… Sorry in advance, really. I will probably feel guilty all the time now.)

[1]"Consider it not so deeply." From "Macbeth" by W. Shakespeare

Said by Lady Macbeth, after her husband killed King Duncan. (Act II, Scene 2)

Also, I don't have the time to personally reply to your reviews right now, so go and visit my livejournal (link can be found on the biography). I've decided to put the replies there in a few days in case you're interested. Ooh, almost forgot to say: THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!

sera A.K.A. donostrock A.K.A. me


	9. Chapter Nine I Fall to Pieces

A/N: This is the edited, i.e. better, version of chapter nine. Many thanks to **Corazon**, my lovely beta, who always supplies me with perfect advice. ****

Chapter Nine – I Fall To Pieces 

_I'm finding my way back to sanity again / Though I don't really know what / I'm gonna do when I get there / Take a breath and hold on tight / Spin around one more time / And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace…_

New Year's Eve found Hermione Granger – despite her previous declarations that one could not go to bed before midnight on a night like this – sound asleep on her bed. She did not hear the sounds of fireworks exploding in the Muggle village nearby. She did not hear the knocks on her door, or Severus Snape's quiet voice asking her to open up. She did not hear his voice changing from polite to insistent to angry to desperate. She did not hear his murmured apologies and his pleas to open the door. She did not hear his voice grow tired and hoarse, and she did not hear how he finally gave up and, strangling a sob that threatened to escape his mouth, left her door to return to his bottle of Firewhisky.

But in Hermione Granger's case, ignorance was not bliss, and dark thoughts tormented her mind. She lay in agony, unable to talk, unable to move. The dream had captured her, and it wouldn't let go.

She had thought that Dreamless Sleep would be her solace for tonight, and that she would face her demons in the morning, when there was light and sunshine to back her up. The potion, however, was failing.

She dreamed, and with the dream came horror.

She was back in Severus' study with the warm fire and the gentle light of the candles illuminating the room, but she could feel no warmth. The cold spread out in her body like a fire, but it froze her instead of burning her insides. She shivered. Then she realised that she was not alone. Severus was there. That was good. He would save her. He always did. He was a good man, and he loved her. He wouldn't, couldn't hurt her… Could he?

_No! He would save her, and protect her from the shadow. _

_The shadows… _

_They were watching her. Even now, they lurked in the corners of the room, ready to strike and rip her heart out. She narrowed her eyes. Yes, she could feel the shadows – they were part of the cold, and in some ways, they were part of herself now. She had touched the darkness, and it had seeped into her. She knew it wouldn't let go once it got hold of someone. _

_Quickly, she moved closer to Severus. Finally, she could feel warmth. She needed Severus. Needed him to keep her safe, and sane. She needed to touch him, because he was warmth, and she needed the fire to burn her because if it kept freezing her insides then she would finally break and crumble, and only a dark silvery pile of powdered glass and ice would be left in her place. _

_She touched his face first, gently, barely feeling his hot skin under her fingertips. He didn't move, didn't look at her. Slowly, she sat down in his lap, straddling him. She felt an explosion of flames everywhere they touched, and pressed herself against him. The warmth kept her alive, and she needed it. _

_Finally, Severus met her gaze, and she was shocked. He was empty, only a shell that looked like him. His eyes held no emotion at all, and they looked like she would imagine the eyes of a Dementor's Kiss' victim. She shuddered. How could he be so warm and full of hot, pulsating life when he was nothing but a vacant body, no more than a ghost in flesh? – It was a contradiction in itself, but a true enough assessment. _

_She was devastated. He needed to be real, needed to be alive. She tried to think of ways to bring him back, bring the fire that possessed his body back into his eyes and soul. Eventually, she kissed him, because it seemed the right thing to do. He loved her, and there was only one way she could elicit an emotion so strong that it brought him back. _

_The kiss was supposed to bring back her saviour. Instead, it brought her a nightmare. Suddenly, all the fire died, and Severus grew cold. She wanted to back away, to look into his eyes, to see if he was back, but she couldn't. His hands had her in a death grip, and she couldn't break free. His mouth was pressed to hers, and she couldn't breathe. Her heart was beating so fast that she could not make out the individual beats anymore. She was panicking now, fighting with all her might, but she wasn't strong enough. _

_He was stronger, in every aspect, and he could crush her. He did. _

_In seconds, his tongue invaded her mouth while his hands ripped off her robes, leaving her embarrassingly exposed and vulnerable. Then she found that her hands were bound, and she couldn't move. She felt the cold air around her almost naked body, and her nipples grew hard because of the cold. _

_He laughed, and claimed her mouth once again. His hands hurtfully pinched and groped, and then she felt the all too familiar sensation of her knickers being pulled down to her ankles. She wanted to scream, but her throat was hurting and she couldn't manage to utter a sound. His hands, now as cold as the air, made her squirm and struggle, but to no avail. She couldn't keep him from hurting her; she was helpless. She closed her eyes, tears forming behind her eyelids. She didn't want to watch. She didn't want to witness how Severus, grinning and sneering and smirking, killed the last bit of hope there was. _

_When he entered her brutally, she felt a stab of pain, and she forced herself to open her eyes again. The first thing she saw was his eyes, black as the night and devoid of emotions. He was grinning maliciously, but his eyes didn't reflect the feeling upon his soul. The sight let her shatter within, and she just knew that she couldn't be whole again. A sob escaped her._

_Then their surroundings began to change. She was no longer pinned down against the sofa, but lay on the stone floor in the cave. Her whole body ached, and a sharp stone poked her in the back. With every thrust it dug a bit deeper into her back, and she felt the skin tear and bleed. _

_Then Severus' features changed. He was no longer Severus, but a faceless man, wearing a hideous mask. _

_She was crying now. She wanted to be home, she wanted to be safe. But if she could not be safe with Severus, where could she go? The truth hit her with unbelievable force: There was nowhere to go. She could either surrender, or shatter completely. It was submission, or destruction. _

_She felt it clearly now. She was falling apart, but she was a Gryffindor, and she would never give in. She raised her head, proud that she could still manage the little movement despite the enormous amount of pain that was making the rest of her body shake uncontrollably. She would rather shatter than give in. _

_The wave of despair hit her hard, and she let her head fall down again, unable to make her muscles work any longer. Her gaze was drawn to the face of her tormenter, and all she could see was a huge, lipless mouth opening up to devour her. _

_The world went black._

She woke up screaming.

Moments later, there was a knocking on her door. "Hermione? What happened?"

Severus. She didn't want to see him. Not just yet.

"Are you all right?" He sounded worried. "Say something? Are you hurt?"

She didn't want to cry.

"Hermione?"

She didn't want to shatter.

"Hermione, back away from the door, I'm coming in now!"

She didn't want to fall apart.

"Okay. One… Two…"

She just wanted to be whole again.

"Three!" The door burst open, and Severus stood in the doorway. His hair was slightly dishevelled, and be was breathing hard.

Hermione took one look at him and knew that she couldn't hide anymore. She knew that it was too late – she was already starting to crumble around the edges, and if she were not very careful, she would soon dissipate into a pile of broken pieces.

And as sure as she was about her own fate, she knew that Severus Snape would always have one of the main parts in the tragic comedy (or was it a comedic tragedy?) that was her life. She knew that she hadn't been able to stop herself from falling, and she knew she would, now that she had hit the ground, shatter from the impact. But she also knew that he was there for her, to help her pick up the pieces, and maybe even to glue them back together. He was her security line, and she had every intention to hold on to it.

Crying, she flung herself into his arms.

Severus, clearly surprised at her outburst, hesitantly put his arms around her shaking form and simply held her.

Gradually, she became aware of her surroundings. She was lying in bed, but she was not alone. Severus was lying beside her, almost underneath her, and had one arm draped protectively around her shoulders. She didn't move, partly because she did not want to wake him, partly because she did not want to disturb the inner peace that kept her from panicking again. Maybe it was the fact that they were both dressed, or simply the feeling that she trusted him, which kept her from running away screaming.

She studied Severus' face. The sunlight outlined his features very sharply. Half his face lay in shadows, whereas the other part was bathed in light. She reckoned it was only fitting. He could, after all, be very ambiguous if he had to.

She sighed. Her life was a right mess, and she hadn't the faintest idea how to make things right again.

Severus seemed to have heard the soft sound of her sigh, because he stirred slightly and reflexively pulled her closer to him, be he did not wake up.

Hermione felt her heartbeat accelerate but she willed herself not to panic. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on what she was feeling, both physically and mentally. She was comfortably warm. The light blanket was drawn up to her waist and her upper body was warmed by Severus'. She didn't know if she'd kicked off her shoes, or if Severus had removed them, but she was acutely aware of the fact that she wasn't wearing any socks, because her left foot was resting between Severus' ankles, lightly touching him. If she moved her leg, which was slung around his, she noticed, she could feel the fabric of his robes brush against the sensitive skin, tickling her.

Her left arm was resting lightly on Severus' stomach, while the other arm lay between their bodies.

So, they were touching a lot, and it wasn't too uncomfortable, was it? If she could hold his hand, and stay in his arms while he Apparated them to another Order meeting, could she also lay beside him and sleep? Was she really about to panic, or could she stay still and maybe even like it? She considered this for a moment, and then realised that she could. Despite everything that had happened the night before, she could still trust him. She still felt safe in his arms, and she knew he would protect her.

A tapping noise came from the window, and within seconds, Severus jumped up, wand drawn. He realised that it had been an owl, and tucked the wand away, untying two letters from its leg and turned around.

"Here," he said, handing her the letter. "This one's for you."

Hermione took it, and saw Harry's familiar handwriting on the front. She opened the letter eagerly.

_Dear Hermione, _

_Dumbledore says you've left your parents' house, but he won't tell us where you are. We miss you terribly. It's a shame you couldn't come to the Burrow as well. Charlie's here, too, and he brought presents for us. Ron got a Dragonhide belt and Ginny a necklace. I got a real dragon tooth – from a Hungarian Horntail. Charlie says I needed a trophy for "fighting" one in my forth year, but he couldn't manage to get a tooth before now. He has something for you, too, but he won't say what it is. _

_I hope you got your presents (thank you for the jigsaw puzzle – I'd never seen a wizarding puzzle before and they're awfully difficult because the pieces change all the time). _

_Ron and Ginny say hi and thank you, too. _

_Hoping to see you soon, _

_Harry_

She smiled slightly. The letter was the most normal thing she'd seen in ages, and it eased her mood a bit. She looked up and found Severus staring at her.

"The Headmaster wants us to come to an Order meeting this evening," he said, looking worried.

"Did he say why?"

"No, but does he ever?" Severus sighed. "I'd better check on the potion," he said, and left.

Hermione stared at the door. He'd just left. She frowned. There were two explanations: One, he was very worried. She didn't know what Dumbledore's letter said, but she was sure it was important. Two, he was embarrassed. They'd woken up together, and it had been a bit awkward. She hadn't known what to say, and he probably wasn't sure what to say to her either. After all, she'd kissed and then left him, only to throw herself at him later that night. Maybe he was confused.

Hermione shook her head and stood up, leaving for the bathroom. She would find out.

She'd taken a quick shower and gathered her hair into a French plait, hoping that it would be tamer when it was dry. She put on a pair of jeans and her favourite blue jumper, and then set off towards the lab.

She knocked, not wanting to startle him.

"Enter," he growled.

_Classroom voice,_ she thought, but she didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

"Morning," she said, looking over his shoulder at what he was writing. He only grunted and continued to write.

"What are you writing?" she asked, determined to start a conversation. "Is it a diary?"

"No, it's not," he grumbled. "If it were, do you really think I'd risk letting you see it?"

"No, suppose not."

There was a pause.

"It's a sort of journal. I keep track of the potions I brew and the ingredients I use. That way, I can plan when to buy new ingredients," he said, putting the quill aside. "I need to go to Diagon Alley."

Hermione's face lightened up. "Can I come with you?"

"Hermione-"

"Please," she interrupted before he could go on. "I want to go to Flourish and Blotts."

"Why?" He put the journal away. "You can use my library."

"Yes," she said. She loved the books in Severus' study, and she'd already read the most interesting ones. "But you don't have books on the topic I want to read."

"Which topic?"

"Divination," she mumbled.

"You want to read up on the prophecy?" He frowned.

"Yes. I need to find out all I can."

He sighed, defeated. "You can come, but you need to stay close to me." She nodded. If she had to accompany him to the apothecary, she might be able to purchase some ingredients herself. If she managed to convince Severus, that is.

They were silent again, Severus checking on the Wolfsbane Potion.

She felt the tension in the air, and knew that it was her fault for being stupid the night before. Things had been so well between them lately, and now everything was awkward again, so she did the best thing she could think of, and apologised. "I'm sorry."

He looked up. "Whatever for?"

"Yesterday… I didn't want to…"

"Hermione," he said, and walked up in front of her. "It was my fault. I should not have kissed you. You are vulnerable, and I was… I'm sorry." He took a breath and stopped her from saying something. "No, listen. You didn't really want to kiss me, I know that. You are emotionally very confused. I understand that you don't remember us together, and I know that you don't want a relationship with me right now, after what they did to you. You can't remember your feelings, and it's not your fault." He took a step back. "I can wait, you know."

"It was my fault," she said stubbornly. "I wanted to know if I could get my memories back by… I thought that maybe I'd remember kissing you if I did it again." She paused. "Severus, I want my memories back." She started to clasp and unclasp her fingers. "Is there a potion to restore them?"

She could see that he hesitated. That could either mean that there was no way to restore her memories, or that there was a way, only that it was very dangerous.

"Yes, there is a potion," he finally said. "But it's too dangerous. You could lose all your other memories in the process if it doesn't work."

"But-"

"Even if I brewed it – it's very unstable, and the chance that it works is only 20 per cent."

"But-"

"You would not only erase every memory, you would probably destroy your chances to get any NEWTs, preventing you from attending the university."

"But-"

"And what would-"

"SEVERUS!" she yelled, angry that he didn't even let her finish. "I need to have these memories back." She didn't know how to explain it to him. Their time together was the reason everything had happened, and she couldn't even remember it. It was like being punished for something you didn't even know you did wrong.

"All right," he eventually agreed. "But we must inform the Headmaster. You will need to take the potion in his presence, and Madam Pomfrey will have to be there, too. We cannot rush things, Hermione. The potion must be strategically planned out from beginning to end."

That day around noon, they Apparated into the Leaky Cauldron.

Severus was still holding her hand when they walked over to a table to order lunch. An old patron sitting at the bar leered at her, and she involuntarily gripped Severus' hand tighter. He looked over and glared at the old man.

They settled down and Tom took their orders.

Hermione looked around and saw two girls she knew from school, Hannah Abbott and Lisa Turpin, who were standing near the door, comparing Christmas presents, but they avoided her eyes although they had definitely seen her.

"Maybe we should have eaten at your house," she whispered. Severus' swivelled around to look at her. He shortly glanced at Hannah and Lisa, and scowled.

"I know, but the Headmaster suggested that we eat here."

"Why?" She couldn't think of a reason.

Severus shrugged. "I have no idea, but Albus usually has a clever plan." His upper lip curled into a sneer. "He probably wants us to make an appearance together so that he can tell people we are together – they wouldn't believe it otherwise."

Her eyes widened. "But the Headmaster wouldn't-" She broke off. _Of course he would._ He knew the prophecy, and it was clear what he expected from them. That was probably the reason he sent her to Severus in the first place. Although she was sure he would never try to hurt anyone deliberately, she had to admit that the Headmaster was capable of a little scheme.

"Don't worry," Severus said. "If Albus wants us to play a couple… well, we can always pretend."

Hermione nodded slowly. "But what about the little fact that you are my professor?"

Severus shrugged again. "Leave it to Albus. He really is good at scheming. And besides, you are an adult in both worlds, Hermione. No one can tell you what to do. As long as I don't treat you any different in class, I don't see a problem."

Tom brought their meals and they ate in silence. Hermione glanced at Lisa and Hannah, who were still standing near the door.

"I think they are waiting for us to do something," Severus said, startling her. She turned around to him.

"Like what?"

"They probably want to see if we kiss," Severus said, finishing his meal.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"But we won't," he said. "Don't worry," he added. She smiled slightly.

"I wasn't thinking about that. I just wonder… what would they do if we did kiss?" Now it was Severus who raised an eyebrow. "Abbott would faint, while Turpin would try to get through to the fireplace to Floo everyone she knows." He stood up and extended his hand.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded and took his hand. Severus led her through the Leaky Cauldron towards the passage into Diagon Alley. He tapped the stones with his wand, and as the passage became visible, she couldn't help but tease him a bit.

"They were checking you out, you know…"

"We need to go to Knockturn Alley for those," Severus said, pointing at a few of the ingredients on his list.

"Okay then," Hermione said, swallowing hard. The thought of Knockturn Alley stirred memories in her, not her own, but the ones she'd seen in Severus' Pensieve. She didn't really like the idea of going to that dark place, but she didn't have a choice.

"I can always leave you at the Leaky Cauldron and come back to pick you up later," Severus said, as if he'd read her mind.

Hermione looked to her right, where an old sign pointed towards the entrance of Knockturn Alley. She shook her head.

"No. I want to come with you."

"All right then," he said, and took her hand. "Stay close."

"I will," she muttered, and followed him down the few steps. Instantly, she had the feeling as if all the light had left the world. The houses here stood closer together, and the shadows were omnipresent. She doubted that the sunbeams ever reached the ground in Knockturn Alley. It was also very quiet, which stood in direct contrast to the happy chatter that could be heard in Diagon Alley almost every time of the day.

"We should hurry up," Severus whispered, and she nodded. She really didn't like Knockturn Alley, and she didn't want to stay longer than she had to.

Severus led her down several streets, and after five or six turns they were standing in front of a shabby-looking shop. The sign simply read 'Potions'. The letters were already fading from view.

They stepped inside, and Hermione immediately wanted to choke from the hot, sweet air. She could smell various herbs and plants, as well as incense being burnt. She coughed, and opened her robes at the front, trying to make it easier to breathe. She briefly wondered how Severus could stand it.

"Ah, Professor," said a voice from the back of the shop. Hermione squinted, trying to make out the speaker, but all she could see was darkness.

"Mr. Douglas," Severus replied. He walked towards the shop's owner, and Hermione was forced to go with him, or to let go of his hand. She held on tightly and he gave her hand a short comforting squeeze.

To take the list Severus handed him, Mr. Douglas had to step out of the shadows. Hermione stifled a gasp before it could escape her lips. Mr. Douglas looked frightening. He was bald, and she could see fine red lines criss-crossing all over his skull. His pale blue eyes were blood-shed, and his left eye squinted slightly, making her feel as if she were under constant scrutiny, and she didn't like being watched. In contrast to his slim, long nose, his lips were full and very red, and his tongue flicked out every few seconds to lick them. Somehow his mouth reminded her of a Dementor's mouth.

She shuddered, and the movement seemed to draw Mr. Douglas' attention to her. He stopped reading the list and turned towards her, now eyeing her unashamedly, but he didn't say anything and went back to the list.

"I have everything you want in the back, Professor. It will take only a minute," he said, and stepped back into the shadows. Hermione couldn't make out a door, but if she was honest, she didn't really want to know what lay behind the shadows. Images of highly illegal plants and poisonous animals, body parts of magical creatures and probably of human beings. She shuddered again.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked quietly. She nodded.

"Yes," she said, looking around. Her eyes fell upon a jar with eyeballs whose label read '100 per cent human'. She quickly looked away. "It's just creepy."

"I told you-"

"That I could have stayed at the Leaky Cauldron, I know," she said, smiling. "But I still mean everything I said. I feel safe with you."

"How very… touching," a cruel voice said from the entrance. Hermione's smile died on her lips, and she saw Severus' expression close and turn into his usual cold stare.

"Lucius," he said, and nodded curtly. He did not, however, let go of her hand.

"Severus," Lucius Malfoy said, stepping into the shop. He looked at her, his upper lip curled in disgust. "And Miss Granger."

"Yes," Severus said.

"That's unexpected," Malfoy said, his eyes still on her. She felt uncomfortable.

"And none of your business," Severus replied, putting an arm around her shoulder.

Hermione knew what the conversation was about. Severus had just taken her side, and claimed that they belonged together.

"Well, I just hope you know what you're doing," Malfoy sneered. "And are ready to stand up to it." He quickly nodded towards Mr. Douglas, who had emerged from the back the second before, and exited the shop. Before Hermione had the chance to say something, Mr. Douglas handed Severus a wooden box.

"I placed the usual charms on it," Mr. Douglas said. "And, as always, I will deny to know about anything in that box should you be not careful."

Severus took the box and tapped his wand to the lid. He studied it for a moment, and then nodded. "How much?"

"Twenty-Six."

Severus nodded again, and took out a bag of money. He counted out twenty-six gold Galleons, and handed them over to Mr. Douglas. Without saying goodbye, Severus and Hermione left the shop.

"That was expensive," Hermione said once they were outside.

"Of course it was. Some of the ingredients are highly illegal. Should the Ministry ever get over their fear of dark places, they could probably arrest ninety-five per cent of the residents of Knockturn Alley, and everyone who comes here for business." Severus grinned. "They would be shocked to see someone like you here."

Hermione was a bit disappointed. She had hoped to start brewing the potion right away, but Severus had put her off. They had still an Order meeting to attend to, and brewing a highly instable potion before informing the Headmaster would be unreasonable.

Now they were on their way to the meeting. When they appeared in the cellar room in the meetinghouse, there was no one to greet them or collect the Portkey. There was, however, a small pile of used Portkeys on the floor.

"Seems like we're the last, again," Hermione said. "I wonder if the Headmaster does that deliberately."

Severus didn't answer but led her up the staircase into the kitchen. She noticed that they were holding hands again. It seemed natural, and it reminded her that she was safe wherever she was just as long as she wasn't alone.

"Ah, Severus, Miss Granger, you are finally here," the Headmaster greeted them, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Albus, we are exactly on time," Severus said icily.

"Of course, Severus," Albus replied, still smiling. "Sit down, you two, and we start." Hermione sat down and looked around. Harry and Ron were sitting at one end of the table, glaring at Severus, and Hermione smiled inwardly. Next to them sat Tonks, grinning at her. Hermione grinned back, and Tonks winked, nodding over to Severus. Hermione felt herself blush, but didn't look away. Remus was standing beside the Headmaster, a cup of tea in his hand, but Hermione noticed that his hands were shaking, and he was gripping the cup so hard that his knuckles were white.

She frowned. Was something wrong?

"In the time since Voldemort's rise, there have been more and more attacks on Muggles and Muggle-born wizards and witches," the Headmaster started, and Hermione felt her insides grow cold. Had something happened to her parents? Were they safe? They might not want her anymore, but they were still her parents, and she loved them.

Under the table, Severus took her hand again and squeezed it lightly. She gave him a short, thankful smile and turned back to the Headmaster. Moody, who sat on the Headmaster's other side, looked at the table with his magical eye, and then raised his eyebrows at her. She ignored him.

"While the Muggle-born students are safe at Hogwarts, I'm afraid their parents aren't. We can't erect wards around every household, so we will have to work with Alarm Spells. Alastor?" The Headmaster turned to Moody, who nodded.

"We set up Alarm Spells that monitor the magical energies around the houses. Should there be too much magic, the Alarm Spells are activated and inform the Headmaster. We hope to be fast enough to stop anything from happening," Moody said, but he didn't sound too confident.

Hermione tuned his voice out. He was talking about the nature of Alarm Spells, and she knew about them already. What she was thinking about was her parents' safety.

"...and that's all we can do," Moody ended his report.

"Thank you, Alastor." The Headmaster turned around and looked at Severus. "Now, Severus, I assume you haven't been summoned over the holidays?"

Severus nodded. "The Dark Lord didn't summon me, and as far as I know the others didn't meet him either."

"Good. The next time he calls you, try to get information on who will be next."

"I'm afraid there is a problem."

"Problem?" Moody asked. Hermione had the feeling that he was watching their hands under the table.

"Yes," Severus said. "We met Lucius Malfoy this morning in Knockturn Alley."

"Really?" the Headmaster asked, smiling again. He didn't sound surprised at all, and Hermione thought that Severus' theory that the Headmaster had intended for someone to find out about them might be true after all.

"And why is that a problem?" Harry asked, oblivious to the implications, at the same time that Ron said, "Knockturn Alley?" Hermione rolled her eyes. Sometimes, her two best friends were really annoying.

"So, Lucius Malfoy assumes that Snape isn't loyal anymore," Tonks said. Severus nodded.

"I suppose so. He made a few comments that were quite clear." Hermione could read in their faces that Harry and Ron still weren't sure what everyone was talking about.

"Has he threatened Hermione?" Remus asked Severus with clear hostility in his voice.

"No," Hermione answered, keeping Severus from saying something stupid. "And that's beside the point. The question is if it is still safe for Severus to go to Death Eater meetings."

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed. "You called Snape-"

"Professor Snape," the Headmaster corrected automatically.

"Whatever," Harry shrugged it off. "She called him Severus!" Ron only stared at her.

"Well, after all, she's been spending her holiday at his house," Remus butted it. He sent Severus an almost challenging look, but Severus didn't rise to the bait.

"You what?" Ron jumped up.

"Ron, I don't think it's the right moment to discuss this. We should concentrate on Order business, not where I spend my holidays," Hermione reasoned. She had hoped to tell Harry and Ron herself, and when she felt ready.

"No, actually, I think we should talk about this now," Moody said. "If you two are in any way… connected, then the Order should know about it."

Remus started to say something, but Moody stopped him. "Let me finish. We have to know such things. If you two have a… relationship, and something happens to one of you – we can't risk the other one rushing off to seek revenge. And the Death Eaters – if they know of a relationship, they will try and abduct Hermione, and-"

"Don't you think it's a bit late for that?" Severus asked coldly. "If I recall correctly, Hermione has been abducted by Death Eaters." He paused. "And I do not intend to let that happen again while she is under my protection."

"So you don't deny it?" Remus asked. He stared at Severus disgustedly. Hermione chose that moment to intervene. She gripped Severus' hand tighter, and then brought their joined hands out from under the table, letting them rest on the wood.

"No, _we_ don't," she said, looking at Severus intently. She just hoped he would play along. Her feelings were confusing enough without having to explain them to others, and she surely didn't want them to know about her insecurities and fears.

"The subject is closed," Severus said, in a voice that didn't allow protest. He glared at them all, including the Headmaster and Tonks, who hadn't said anything. "Now, if the meeting is closed, we need to talk to the Headmaster in private."

"Oh no, nothing is closed," Ron shouted. "I want to talk about this now. What does that mean, Hermione? You're with Snape? SNAPE?!"

"Mr. Weasley, this is none of your business," Severus roared. "We need to talk to the Headmaster, and after that, we will leave."

"Leave?" Harry said, considerable quieter than Ron, but still in a very loud voice. "As in 'together'? I don't like that at all. After what happened to Hermione I don't think-"

"That's it." Hermione stood up. "That's it! I can't believe you two. All you can do is shout and yell and accuse Severus, without even asking what I have to say. Did you even think about the possibility that I might _want_ it this way? No, of course not. Why would Hermione, who only knows books and libraries, want Snape, evil Potions Master and ex-Death Eater?"

"Good question," Ron muttered towards Harry.

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "You didn't even ask. For your information, I like Severus, and I enjoy spending time with him. And not that it's any of your business, but he helped me more than you two ever could, and I feel safe with him. But you – you hurt me, did you know that? You just don't accept that I'm not the same Hermione anymore. I can't be." She drew in a breath and turned towards Remus.

"And you," she started. "I thought you were my friend, too. But obviously, I was wrong. You knew I was at Severus' and I thought I could trust you with this information, but no. You had to go and blurt it all out because of your petty schoolboy grudge against Severus, betraying my friendship along the way. I'm deeply disappointed."

Then she glared at the Headmaster. "You made sure that we were seen together in Diagon Alley, and that Hogwarts will buzz with the rumours once the Christmas Break is over. I just hope it was worth all of this." The Headmaster stroke his beard pensively and started to say something, but Hermione stopped him. "No. We wanted to inform you that I will take a potion to restore my memories, dangerous or not, I don't care. And you will not stop me."

She ignored Tonks' murmured question "What memories?" and stormed out of the room and down the stairs. She just wanted to get away from them. Of course she had anticipated their negative reactions, but it had still come as a shock that they stared at her disbelievingly and even a little bit disgusted.

Hermione sighed, and leaned against the cool wall at the bottom of the stairs. She knew she could Apparate back to Severus' house, but she didn't want to leave without him. She went over the scene again in head. At some point, she had just cracked, and the anger had made her shout at Harry and Ron, and Remus. She still couldn't believe that he had betrayed her trust just to spite Severus and make Harry and Ron angry at her…boyfriend? No, that didn't sound right. But what exactly was Severus to her?

A friend, sure. A confidant, probably. She had been more honest and open with him than with anyone else. She started to take his presence for granted, and was thankful for it. She wanted him to be there for her. But was he something more than just a friend? She had kissed him, after all, and before her abduction, they had been together. Did that mean that she loved him? She wasn't sure. Maybe.

She tried to picture herself as Severus' girlfriend, and found that it wouldn't be that different from what their relationship was like at the moment, only with more touching and kissing. _Hell, I even know his **mother**,_ she thought.

The loud _bang!_ of the kitchen door being slammed shut and the sound of rapid footsteps startled her out of her thoughts. Then she realised that she recognised the footsteps as Severus'. He was looking for her.

"I'm here," she said, her voice clearly audible in the narrow staircase. Severus appeared at the top of the stairs, and walked down slowly towards her.

"Potter and Weasley are furious. They think I used a spell on you to make you want me." Hermione grinned.

"Only they would think you need a spell for that." Severus cocked an eyebrow and descended the last few steps, coming to stand in front of her.

"Are you flirting with me, Hermione?"

"No. Yes. Maybe." She sighed. "I don't know."

"It's okay, you know." He leaned onto the wall next to her, and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

She hesitated for a second, but then she took his right arm and placed it around her shoulders, and leaned in to him. She felt him stiffen for a moment, but then he relaxed again.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "that your friends had to learn it this way."

"Thank you," she murmured, and buried her head in his shoulder. He smelled good. "Did the Headmaster tell them that… that it started even before… I mean, do they know for how long…?" She didn't really know how to phrase her thoughts. Technically, they weren't together anymore, and hadn't been for the better part of seven months.

"I don't know." He chuckled slightly. "I left when, in a fit of rage, Weasley started to climb onto the table. I was afraid he might try and hex me, despite the fact that he isn't allowed to do magic in the holidays." Hermione laughed, imagining Ron on the kitchen table, poking at Severus with his wand.

"Yes, because you of all people wouldn't want him expelled for the unauthorised use of magic…"

"Hey," he said in mock-offence, "believe it or not, but there are a lot more students I would want to expel before Weasley. The list is quite long, actually, and Weasley is somewhere at the bottom, along with Potter, while Parkinson, for example, is somewhere in the top five."

"You don't like Pansy Parkinson?" she asked, frowning. She always thought that all Slytherins were his favourite students, or at least preferable to the other three houses.

"Not anymore, since she tried to up her Potions grade last semester by bribing me." He shuddered. "She obviously thought I was desperate for a shag and willing to change her poor grade for some action."

"But you didn't touch her, did you?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Why? Are you jealous?" She knew Severus was teasing her, but if she was honest, she felt a pang of jealousy when thinking of Severus with someone else, especially someone as stupid as Pansy Parkinson. "Hermione," he said when she didn't reply. "I was only teasing. You know I would never really hurt you." He lifted his hand from her shoulder and softly stroked her cheek. "Never," he promised.

"I know," she said, and stood in front of him. She put her arms around his waist and inhaled his smell. He really smelled good.

Severus put his arms around her, and she could hear and feel his rapid heartbeat. _He's as nervous as I am, _she thought. _Probably even as insecure._

"Severus?" she whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Can we go home now?" She wanted to talk to him, and she wanted to talk somewhere where she felt more at home. She wanted to snuggle down next to him on the sofa and tell him that she was falling for him. She wanted to be happy again, and most of the time she was happy when she was with him.

"Of course, Hermione," Severus said, and Disapparated with her.

Remus was furious. Hermione had accused him of betraying their friendship and then left the room, the Headmaster was staring at him with this disappointed and hurt look on his face as if it was his fault, and Snape just sat there with a smug grin plastered on his ugly face.

Oh, how he wanted to kick him! He didn't know what Hermione could possibly see in Snape. The man was plain ugly. He had crooked teeth (slightly _yellow_, too), a large hooked nose and an unhealthy complexion. He didn't even have nice hair, or nice eyes, but a greasy mop of too long black hair and cruel dark eyes. His appearance alone screamed Death Eater, and his black soul matched perfectly.

_Doesn't she know what Death Eaters do for amusement? What he did, and probably still does to girls like herself?_ Remus shuddered. _How could she even consider going near someone like Snape?_

Now Ron drew his wand and tried to hex Snape, who abruptly left the room, slamming the door behind him. Harry and Moody were busy trying to calm Ron, and Tonks started making tea. Albus just stood there, staring out of the window.

Remus decided to follow Snape, just to make sure he didn't hurt Hermione. He heard them before he could see them. They were talking at the bottom of the stairs.

_"…she tried to up her Potions grade last semester by bribing me," _Snape said. _"She obviously thought I was desperate for a shag and willing to change her poor grade for some action."_

Remus cast a spell that allowed him to watch them without being seen. He instantly regretted the full view. Hermione was standing far too close to Snape, and his arm was slung around her shoulders.

_"But you didn't touch her, did you?"_ came Hermione's quick question.

_"Why? Are you jealous?"_

_Oh Please,_ Remus thought. _Jealous? He can't be serious. Everyone would be glad to get rid of him, so why would she be jealous?_

But then he caught sight of Hermione's face and realised that she actually was jealous. Snape couldn't see her face because his head was resting on top of hers, but then he seemed to notice that she hadn't replied.

_"Hermione, I was only teasing. You know I would never hurt you. Never,"_ Snape said. He stroked her cheek, and Remus had to gather all his strength not to storm down there and shout at him for touching her.

_"I know,"_ she said and embraced him.

Remus gasped. Hermione _wanted_ Snape. He shook his head. _No, it couldn't be,_ he thought. _He must have forced her. _

He saw Snape pulling Hermione closer, and they were silent for a while. The look on Snape's face was indescribable. Remus had never seen it so full of emotion. Usually, it was cold and expressionless, or full of hatred and malice. Now it was… contentment he could see, and other emotions, too.

_"Severus?"_ Hermione whispered, and Remus had nearly missed it.

_"Hmm?"_

_"Can we go home now?"_

_Home?_ he thought. _Home? She calls Snape's house her home? Something must be wrong with her. It couldn't be._

_"Of course, Hermione,"_ Snape said, and with a _crack!_ they Disapparated.

Remus ended the monitor spell and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Due to his heightened senses, he could still hear Ron cursing Snape in the kitchen, and grinned at a few of boy's expletives. However, what he had witnessed only confirmed his opinion that something was wrong, and he didn't intend for Hermione to get hurt further. He would find a way to help her.

End Chapter Nine

Disclaimers: The characters and everything still belong to JK Rowling, and the title still belongs to T. Chapman. See chapter one for details.

The Chapter title is taken from an Angel episode (1.04, I think). They took it from an old song, as far as I remember. However, it's not mine.

The quote at the beginning is the first stanza of Lifehouse's song "Breathing" which I – can you guess? – don't own.

Author's Note: 

A big thank you to everyone who reviewed this story. And a big "I'M SORRY" because I seemingly disappeared for the last few months. I've finally been able to start writing again (and pray that the nasty writer's block doesn't come back!). However, I'm doing **NaNoWriMo** this month, and the new semester just started a few weeks ago, so I'm quite busy. Chapter ten probably won't be out for a while yet. Go to my livejournal for updates on how I'm doing with new chapters.

Chapter Ten: You learn about the potion that's supposed to give Hermione's memory back, and we'll see if it works. And things finally start happening faster and faster.

Thank you again for reading,

sera

PS: For everyone who's also reading **It All Started With A Kiss**: Don't worry, I will continue the story. I've even started with the new chapter, but my inspiration is somewhere in the Caribbean and I'm stuck. But I'm trying. So, thanks to everyone who wrote me nice emails, I hope I answered your questions.

**Response to an anonymous reviewer (review titled: "tired"):**

First of all, I agree with many of the things you said. However, this story is not even nearing its end, and I think it a bit presumptuous of you to judge it before you see where I'm going with it. I can assure you that I am not going to make this a typical h/c story. There will be no happily ever after – how can there be? For obvious reasons I cannot post my entire plot here, so I cannot prove to you that my story is different than all the other Hermione-gets-raped-and-rescued-by-Snape stories. I would like to see you review again when the story is finished – there are some surprises ahead that might change your mind.

Also I want to stress that this story is written solely from Hermione's POV, and I can tell you that she does not know everything that is going on. She only has a very selective knowledge of the goings-on at the school, she does not know the Headmaster's plan or motives, she does not know Snape's thoughts. In fact, she isn't even clear on her own feelings most of the time.

… this response is longer than I thought, so I cut it out and post it in my livejournal. I will title it "response to an anonymous reviewer" and even put it in the memories section of my lj. Feel free to comment. (Link to my livejournal in my bio.)

sera


	10. Chapter Ten

**Less than Strangers**  
Chapter Ten

_And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right. Counting Crows _

It was pitch-dark outside when they appeared in the woods outside of Severus' house. Hermione didn't let go of him but instead tried to get even closer.

"Afraid of the dark?" he asked, and she could tell that the question was sincere, that he was not making fun of her.

"Not so much afraid of the dark," she answered. "It's more what lives in the dark that scares me."

Severus didn't answer, and for some reason, it was an uncomfortable silence. Over the last few weeks, she had started to feel very comfortable in his presence, and even when they weren't talking or working, she would often wonder at just how content she felt.

"I… I hope you don't mind brewing that potion – I do want to remember, you know," she said in an attempt to get him talking.

"It's not that," he finally said, sighing deeply. "I was only thinking… when you take the potion, you will remember everything I ever told you. Not that I didn't want to tell you, but some of the things weren't pretty."

"Are you afraid I might not like you anymore?" she asked, looking at him incredulously.

Severus smiled sadly. "No. But once you learn who – what – I was, you-"

"What you were?"

He laughed bitterly. "I suppose you could say I was something that lived in the night."

"Oh." He wanted to imply that he was dangerous, and that she would be scared of him. Hermione shook her head and laughed sharply. "You don't think that I'm still as naïve as I was before my kidnapping, do you? I know quite well that you were a Death Eater, and are now a spy. I know you did – and probably still have to do – the most horrid things." She paused. "But that does not change the fact that I feel safe with you. Or that I want to be with you."

They reached the front doors, and Severus opened. While he took her cloak and placed it in the cupboard, she watched him intently. His back was turned to her, and he seemed more rigid than ever.

Hermione smiled. He was probably trying to get himself under control by ignoring her for as long as possible. She didn't know how and why, but she suddenly felt the urge to kiss him again.

"Severus?"

He froze. Without turning, he said, "Yes?"

"What would you do if I wanted to kiss you again?" she asked, licking her lips.

"Tell you to get a grip on yourself," he said harshly. When he turned around, his expression was as cold as ever.

"Would you really?" She raised an eyebrow, and, conspicuously inconspicuous, she trailed a finger down her neck. She saw his eyes following her movement, until he snapped out of his trance-like stare.

"Stop it!" Abruptly, he turned and strode off towards the kitchen.

Hermione followed him, opening the top buttons of her blouse as she went. When she entered, he was downing a glass of whisky.

Determined, she walked up directly to him and used her body to press him against the kitchen counter. He gasped, and quickly shoved her off of him.

"So you don't want me," she said, realisation hitting her. Of course he didn't want her! Who would want her after HE had had her? How foolish of her to think that he actually wanted her!

_But yesterday,_ a small voice in the back of her head said, _yesterday he wanted you, didn't he?_

She told herself to shut up. The episode the day before didn't matter. Even if he had wanted her – he didn't want her now.

"You don't really believe all that crap, do you?" he asked, glaring at her furiously.

"Well, what am I supposed to think?" she yelled back. "How am I supposed to know what you want if you don't talk to me?"

"It doesn't matter what _I_ want," he roared, smashing the glass on the kitchen floor. "This is about _you_ and your stupid ideas." With an angry gesture, he wiped the shards of glass from the floor and conjured up another glass of whiskey, which he downed immediately.

"Yes, my stupid ideas," she hissed, fighting back her feeling of rejection and humiliation. "Stupid of me to think you would want me!"

"You think I don't want you?" he asked, and suddenly he seemed very menacing.

Before she even knew what was happening, she was pinned against the kitchen wall, Severus' body pressing into hers. She could feel his arousal, and when she looked up, she met his staring gaze, his eyes even darker than usual. He narrowed his eyes and shifted slightly, making her feel the full length of his erection.

She started squirming, but his right hand held both her arms tightly above her head, and his body pressing into hers prevented her from kicking him. Her heartbeat sped up, and soon she was breathing violently. Fear, she knew, was showing clearly on her face.

Forcefully, he claimed her mouth. The kiss was neither gentle, nor very long. It was meant to scare her and show her that she was helpless. It worked.

Severus' lip trailed hard kisses along her jawbone and to her neck, where he bit the skin – not enough to make her bleed, but she was sure she would be bruised in the morning. Then she could feel his hot breath in her ear as he whispered, "Do you still think I don't want you?"

Tears were not flowing down her cheeks, and all she could do was shake her head.

"One last thing, Hermione," he hissed. She flinched at the use of her first name. It seemed far too absurd and hurtful that he would use it in such a situation.

"Think twice before starting something you have no control of once you set it in motion." With that, he let go of her hands and stepped back, allowing her to move again, but all she could manage was slump down and cry.

For a few minutes, she cried silently, burying her face in her hands. She knew he was still in the room, although he made no sounds and didn't move at all. He was probably watching her.

Then there was a sudden movement, and Severus crouched down beside her. He gently patted her back and then scooped her up in his arms. At first, she stiffened and wanted to get off, but he just held her closer.

"Shhh," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The irony of his words wasn't lost on her, but she was too weak to laugh. All she could do right now was submit.

"I needed you to understand, Hermione," he said softly, kissing her hair. She didn't know what she was supposed understand.

"You don't have to prove that you are desirable," he murmured. "And you shouldn't do things you would regret a very short time later."

She knew she should be afraid of him, or furious, but when she thought about it, she was only glad that he had stopped her. She was ashamed to admit even to herself that she probably wouldn't have stopped had he merely asked. _Oh God, what possessed me?_

She felt guilty for putting him in that situation. Of course he wanted her! The conversation from earlier that evening echoed in her head. He loved her, didn't he? He hadn't said it, but she knew he did. How could she possibly be so cruel to him? _Oh God,_ she thought, burying her head in his shoulder. _He must hate me now._

They reached her room and Severus laid her down on her bed and pulled off her shoes.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh." He pulled her in his arms and held her tightly. "Don't be sorry. Nothing of it was your fault. Not today, and not four months ago, do you hear that? It was not your fault."

"I know," she said, the sounds muffled because her face was pressed against his chest.

"And do you also know that I wouldn't hurt you?"

She pulled away slightly and looked him in the eyes. He was anxiously waiting for a reply. Suddenly what happened in the kitchen seemed far away, almost as if it was only a dream.

"I know." She bit her lip. "I think I still trust you."

"Good. But never forget how you felt just a few minutes ago," Severus warned. "The only person you can ever trust a hundred per cent is yourself. No one else. If I ever – ever – do anything like that again, don't trust me." He cupped her cheek and made her look at him. "I mean it. Should I ever try to hurt you, I want you to stun me, or better yet, kick me where it hurts."

She nodded.

"Good. Now sleep." Severus stood up and walked over to her door, turned off the lights and started to leave.

"Wait!" She sat up in her bed, biting her lip. "Stay." She stood up, and quickly added, "It's just – I don't want to be alone right now. I didn't…" She drew in a breath. "Please."

Severus nodded hesitantly and stepped back into her room.

vvvvvvvv

"The Headmaster wants to be present when you take the potion," Severus said, handing her a short letter.

She scanned it quickly and then shrugged. "I don't mind, but he'd better not start talking to me." She was still angry at everyone, except maybe Tonks. The Headmaster hadn't helped her situation at all in the last few months. All he did was give her vague advice and talk in riddles.

_No,_ she told herself. _Don't spoil your good mood by thinking of the Headmaster._

She was having an incredibly relaxed morning. Waking up with Severus beside her the second night in a row had been far more pleasant than she would admit. He had made coffee, even though he preferred tea, and tried to make an omelette – Muggle-style. The sight of the feared Potions Master standing in the kitchen, helplessly holding a frying pan and an egg had been enough to make her fall over in a fit of laughter. Severus had joined in shortly afterwards, finally admitting that he was no use when it came to Muggle cooking. Usually he only needed one flick of his wand to have breakfast ready, and this morning he had spent half an hour trying to figure out how to heat up the plates on the cooker.

"Do you think the potion will be ready today?" she asked.

Severus nodded. "If we start now, it should be ready before nightfall. I'll owl Albus." He paused before adding, "I still think it would be better to have Madam Pomfrey here, just in case."

Hermione frowned. "You know she's on holiday and doesn't come back until after the start of the next term. I don't want to wait that long," she said. "And besides, the Headmaster will be there. I'm sure it will be all right."

Severus sighed and she knew she'd won already.

"I'll set up the cauldron," she said, practically bouncing up the stairs. She really was in a good mood, and she doubted that anything could destroy that feeling of contentment.

Severus joined her a short time later, and they brewed the potion in silence, only asking for an ingredient or an instruction every now and then. Finally, it was time for the last ingredient.

"So, after adding the dried oak leaves, the potion should turn a bright blue, and then start getting darker and darker. When it's cooled off, it should be a dark grey-blue colour." Severus took the carefully prepared oak leaves and then stopped, his hand hovering over the cauldron. "If this doesn't work, and the potion is not the right colour, you will not drink it."

Hermione nodded. "Of course not. I'm not stupid enough to drink something I don't know the effects of."

"Good." He let the leaves fall into the now green potion and quickly stirred it until the leaves dissolved completely.

Hermione tensed up and watched the potions slowly change colours. It was now the hopeful-looking bright blue. Severus extinguished the fire and cast a cooling charm. _Turn dark, turn dark,_ she prayed. _Oh, please._

Severus stopped stirring, and they waited. Finally, Severus nodded. "Perfect," he said. "It has the perfect colour." He carefully warded the cauldron. "Now the potion will work effectively for the next three and a half hours. You have to take it until then."

"Do we really have to wait for the Headmaster?" she asked, pouting a little.

"Yes." Severus gave her a small smile. "But I don't think he'll take long. He always wanted to see my house."

"You've never shown him where you live?"

Severus shook his head. "Of course not. I'm Severus Snape. I don't invite people into my house."

"You did invite me," Hermione remembered him.

"Only because I-" He stopped and averted his eyes.

"You can say it. I know you do." She placed a hand on his arm and reached up with her other hand to cup his cheek. Then she turned his face towards her. He looked slightly puzzled, but then he seemed to catch himself.

"I know. It's just – it doesn't feel right," he said, trying to look away again.

"It doesn't feel right because I don't say it, too," she whispered, realisation dawning on her. Her thoughts were racing, fighting a battle with her feelings, and so far, they were loosing poorly. "But I do, too. I… I think I love you, Severus."

He simply stared at her.

"I don't mean I'm ready to-to, you know, but I do love you. I can feel it." She stepped even closer. "I suppose it's been there all the time, but I just didn't realise it." She smiled. "I love you," she repeated.

"You do?"

She nodded. Suddenly she was afraid he didn't love her back, but only for the fraction of a second, because after that, he put his arms around her and held her in his embrace.

"I love you, too, Hermione," he said into her hair, and she could hear his voice was full with emotion.

Her heart skipped a beat, only to speed up and race in her chest. Carefully, she reached up and pulled his face down, kissing him softly on the lips. Neither of them thought about taking the kiss further, and when it ended shortly later, a smile spread on Hermione's lips.

"Hermione, I don't think-"

"No," she cut him off. "It's not like yesterday evening," she said firmly. "I know what I'm ready to do and what not."

Severus nodded. "Tell me."

She felt a bit silly, but she knew how much she was ready to take – or thought she was ready to take. "No really intimate touches and no removal of clothes."

When Severus didn't laugh at her, but nodded earnestly, she allowed herself a little grin. "Except maybe shoes…"

This brought at smile to his lips, and she felt the urge to kiss him again. At first, Severus seemed a bit surprised at her sudden attack, but soon he gave up his half-hearted protests and kissed her back.

vvvvvvvv

"Severus! Miss Granger!" Albus' voice rang thorough the house.

"The Headmaster," Severus gasped. He pulled away, breathing heavily. They had spent the last half hour kissing, and as a result, his hair was slightly tousled and his pale lips were a bright red.

He quickly cast a grooming charm on himself and then asked, "How do I look?"

"Very much snogged," Hermione laughed, trying to get her hair back in control. "Well, let's get this over with."

They left the lab and went down the stairs. They could hear the Headmaster in the sitting room, talking to someone. Severus tensed up when he recognised the voice. Remus Lupin.

Hermione stopped walking. "Why did he bring _him_?" she hissed.

Severus quickly cast a silencing charm on them. "I suppose he wants to make our lives miserable, just as he always does," he said dryly.

"I don't want Lupin here," she said stubbornly.

"Oh yes, now stamp your foot and say 'I don't like him anymore. Remus is no longer my friend'," Severus said, frowning at her. "I don't like the werewolf either. But the best we can do now is ignore him."

She made a face. "I'm being childish, aren't I?"

He nodded. "Yes. Although I can't blame you. I feel very much the same."

Hermione grinned. "At least I can try to make him squirm." She started walking again. "You coming?"

Severus nodded, but suddenly stopped. He pointed at her neck. "You still have that… er, bruise there. Shall I remove it?"

"No, leave it."

"But it looks like-"

"A hickey?" Hermione laughed again. "Good. That's point one on my 'How to make Remus Lupin squirm' list."

"You're using me," Severus said in a mock-hurt voice, entering the sitting room before her. She followed him still laughing.

"Oh, there you are," the Headmaster said cordially. "And in such a good mood, too."

"My good mood has nothing to do with you," she said, narrowing her eyes. She saw Remus' eyes fall down to the bruise on her neck, and he let out a barely audible growl. She ignored him. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

"Of course, dear," Albus said, smiling warmly. "Lead the way."

She nodded and soon they were walking up to the lab. Hermione opened her bedroom door with a flick of her wand when she reached the top of the stairs before anyone noticed.

She was sure that Remus would smell both their scents everywhere in the room, and that would he would hate it. _Ha,_ she thought. _That'll teach you not to judge my relationship before you even listen to me. _

Then they were standing in front of the cauldron and she was serious again. Severus handed her a carefully measures sample of the potion, and she closed her eyes, gulping it down at once. It didn't taste half as bad as she had expected, but it was of the consistency of syrup, which made it difficult to swallow it all in one go.

"Urgh," she said, feeling the liquid oozing down her gullet.

"Here, drink that. It will help that feeling." Severus gave her a glass of water, and she thankfully drank.

"So – does it work?" she asked after a few minutes.

"Only time can tell, my child," the Headmaster said, smiling. "The memories have been there, only you weren't able to access them. Now that barrier should be down, and with a little concentration, you should be able to remember. Go on. Try it." He looked at her encouragingly.

"But… I don't know what to remember," she said helplessly.

"Try the end of May, last year," Severus said.

"Okay," she nodded. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the previous May. She had studied for finals, of course. Then her parents wrote, informing her that they would spent three weeks in Pittsburgh, at her aunt's house. She had an argument with Parvati about the idiocy of make up used on a daily basis. And… Severus took her to Kennywood 1.

"Kennywood?" she asked hesitantly, not sure if she remembered correctly. It seemed a bit absurd that Severus would take her somewhere so distinctively… Muggle.

Severus nodded, seemingly relieved that the potion seemed to have worked, and she could see it in his eyes that he was barely hiding his smile. "You were upset because your parents visited your aunt, and you weren't able to go with them."

"Yes, because we always go in the Easter holidays, but it didn't work out last year, and I was upset. Usually, my parents would take me to Kennywood."

"You forced me on the… what was it called? _Exterminator_?"

Hermione grinned, now remembering the day perfectly clear. "You were horrified."

"No, you were horrible. You could have warned me."

"Aww, but that would have cost me my fun," she said, laughing at his scowl. "You were really cute, screaming blue murder, trying to hex me…"

"Ahem," the Headmaster said, clearing his throat. "I assume you do remember, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Headmaster," she said, "Thank you for coming," she added politely, although she didn't really know why he had to be there, but she withstood the urge to ask. She could always ask Severus later.

"I believe you two have a lot to discuss," Albus said, starting to walk towards the door. "Remus, I suppose we leave the two to talk."

Remus looked livid. His eyes flickered with rage, and he growled at Severus, who had put an arm around Hermione.

"Remus?"

The werewolf's eyes narrowed, but he reluctantly followed the Headmaster out of the room.

Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She didn't know what Remus' problem was – he couldn't possibly let a silly grudge against Severus destroy their friendship and her trust in him, could he? Why would he do that?

"I'm sorry," Severus said, kissing the top of her head. When he looked at her again, a sudden flash of memory brought her back to the dungeons at school, with her and Severus in very much the same positions – she was leaning into him, and he had one arm around her, kissing her hair. In itself the moment hadn't been anything special, but to her it was.

"Are you all right?" Severus asked, starting to clear the working area.

"Yes," she answered. "I was just wondering… why did the Headmaster have to be here?"

"The potion is used is illegal, you know that. If anyone found me with it, and then noticed that I am a Death Eater, well…" He let the sentence unfinished, but she understood him nevertheless.

"But no one would find out!"

"Just because the Headmaster cast a charm to confuse the magical energies in the area." Severus took a book from the counter and opened it, holding the open book out to her. "There." He pointed to a passage. "It says that every magical creature, and every magical plant, can be tracked. The Ministry has tracing spells all over Britain to detect magical energy. That way they can estimate the amount of magic and the power of the spells that are used. They can also determine if the magic is used illegally."

Hermione quickly scanned the paragraph. "And the Headmaster used his own magical trace to deflect the trace of your illegal potion," she concluded.

Severus nodded and finished cleaning. "So – do you want to go for a walk?"

vvvvvvvv

"Remus, calm down," Headmaster Albus Dumbledore said, closing his eyes for a second. He felt every single day of his one hundred and fifty-two years. When Remus had approached him earlier that day, he hadn't liked the idea of taking the younger man with him. Severus had only agreed to let Albus come to his home because he didn't want Hermione to travel too much, and the old wizard hadn't wanted to betray that trust by bringing someone who didn't like Severus. And Remus, despite his regular visits at both Severus' home and his chambers in Hogwarts, was by no means a friend of the often sullen and bad-tempered young man.

Albus sighed. _This is getting more and more complicated each day,_ he thought, gesturing for Remus to sit down.

Reluctantly, Remus took a seat and scowled at Fawkes, who continued to clean his plumage unfazed.

"I know that you are suspicious of the relationship between Severus and Miss Granger," he started, but was interrupted by the younger man.

"Suspicious?! I'm more than just suspicious. Snape is an evil bastard, and Hermione is such a nice girl. The two of them aren't meant to be together, can't you see? She's far too good for him, and he's – he's just a bitter, depraved bastard." Remus jumped up and began pacing. "After what Hermione has been through, she shouldn't be forced to stay with that fucked up pervert. Who knows what he's doing to her? Maybe he forces her to –"

"REMUS!"

Remus' head whipped around. It wasn't often that Albus Dumbledore raised his voice.

"I assure you, Severus does no such things. Miss Granger stays with Severus out of her own free will, and she is free to leave any second, should she wish to. From what I've seen today, I would say she is very happy, as is Severus. It is my firm belief that they belong together, and you will do nothing to destroy that relationship." Albus sternly looked at his former student, who in return shot him a defiant glance, ignoring the seat offered to him once again.

"I am still not convinced," he said. He stalked over to Fawkes' perch and tried to stroke the bird, but he was a bit rough, so Fawkes ruffled up his breast feathers and hooted angrily. Remus didn't notice, as he was still staring at Albus. The phoenix then started picking at the werewolf's hand, and Remus cursed, holding his now bleeding right hand to his chest.

"How long?" he snarled.

Albus, who got a perverse pleasure out of torturing Remus a bit, feigned ignorance. "How long what?"

"How long has this been going on between Hermione and Snape?" Remus hissed.

Albus stayed silent for a moment, contemplating on how much information he could entrust Remus with. From the look of it, not much – the werewolf was so agitated that the air seemed to heat up around him.

"Don't play with me, Headmaster," he said. "If Hermione was under-age when you set her up with Severus-"

"What makes you think I 'set her up' in any way?" Albus asked, shaking his head. "Miss Granger is a young woman who doesn't listen to old men like myself, I'm afraid. Everything she did, she did out of her own free will. Neither Severus nor I tried to force her into anything she didn't want."

"That doesn't change the fact that he is twenty years her senior – and her teacher!" Remus shouted, slamming his fist into the wall. "He's taking advantage of her, I tell you! How can you let that happen right under your nose?"

Albus sighed in exasperation. "Remus. As you well know, things aren't always what they appear to be. Miss Granger is very intelligent, and I trust her judgement. I have no business with my employees' or my students' private lives--" Remus snorted at that, but Albus continued unfazed, "--and I trust Severus. He would not betray my trust, nor my friendship"

Remus scowled, but said nothing.

Albus studied Remus over the rim of his half-moon spectacles and then stood up. He walked over to the younger man and placed a gently hand on his shoulder. "Remus, if you don't trust Severus, trust at least Miss Granger. She has been through a lot, and she is happy now. Don't destroy it for her because of an old grudge and some petty rivalry."

Remus slumped forward in his chair and nodded slowly.

"I suggest you lie down and take a nap before going back home. You know where the guest rooms are," Albus said, watching the other man leave.

He stayed in his office until it was time to go to bed, all the time staring at the door, thinking about the lives he had influenced.

vvvvvvvv

"Two more days and we'll have to go back," Hermione said, letting her gaze travel wistfully over the lakeside and the forest beyond it. It had started snowing again a few minutes ago, and the sight was overwhelming.

Severus, who had his arms slung around her from behind, chuckled quietly, and she could feel the motion through the fabric of their clothing. She liked being close to him. He always emitted such warmth and comfort that she thought it hard to believe she once found him disgusting and despicable.

"Hermione Granger, know-it-all, bookworm and workaholic, is sorry to return to school," he said. "I never thought I'd live to see the day that happens."

Hermione elbowed him playfully. "Don't make fun of me. You know it's going to be difficult for us to see each other."

"I know," Severus sighed. "Especially since Turpin and Abbott will spread rumours all over Hogwarts. By the day we return, there will be people watching our every step. It's almost as if Albus wanted to make this public," he said.

"Maybe he did," Hermione agreed. "But why?"

Severus shook his head. "I don't know."

"Let's think of ways to see each other," she said. "I surely wouldn't survive the first week without seeing you."

"You could always borrow Potter's Invisibility Cloak," Severus suggested. He rested his chin on her head and pulled her even closer.

"Yes, I know, but I don't want to ask Harry if I can help it. He and Ron are both not comfortable with our being together, and I don't want to make things worse."

Severus laughed. "I could always give you detention."

"Oh, yes, Mr Obvious," Hermione laughed. In a deep voice, clearly trying to impersonate him, she continued, "Detention tonight, Miss Granger. Be punctual – and wear that sexy dress under your robes." She broke into a fit of laughter.

"You own a sexy dress?" Severus asked. "Hmm, I think I really need to give you a detention."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Be serious. If anyone finds me sneaking around in the dungeons, the rumours will become ten times worse, and before we know it, I am known as your willing sex slave and you're just an old man with a fetish for young Gryffindors."

"You think I'm old?" Severus asked in a mocking voice.

Hermione sighed and turned around, freeing herself from his arms. "I mean it: Be serious," she said, looking at him accusingly for taking these matters as lightly as he did. "The Ministry could very well make both our lives miserable, not to mention the enraged parents, demanding an explanation as to why one of the professors goes about seducing students, or all the stares and comments in between classes and at mealtimes. You may be immune to all that, but I'm not."

Severus cupped her cheek, stroking it softly. "I'm sorry, love. I just tried to lighten your mood a little." He sighed. "I know that it will be hard for us. We will both be closely watched, and it would definitely better if we didn't meet for some time."

She shook her head. "No. I don't want that!"

"I don't want that, either," he said. Taking her hand, Severus led her back towards the house. "If you want, we can make it official. I mean, not hide our relationship any more. Of course, we shouldn't be caught snogging in the hallways of all things, but I think we can manage that…" Severus trailed off, staring at the snowy path, seemingly fascinated with what he was seeing.

"Severus?" Hermione asked hesitantly. "What are you trying to say? Are you…proposing in a weird sort of way?"

The look Severus sent her said everything.

"You _are_ proposing," she whispered, stopping dead in mid-step. The sudden movement caught Severus off guard, and he was jerked backwards since he was still holding her hand.

Severus coughed nervously. "Well, I had planned for this to be more romantic and less… wet," he said, wiping a bit of snow from his forehead. "But I suppose this is as good a time as any." He slowly sank down on one knee and took a small black box out of his pocket.

Hermione gasped at the sight of the ring. It was gorgeous – very simple, but beautiful in its simplicity. A plain silver band, with a single white stone embedded in it, was sitting on the black velvet, the stone sparkling in the faint afternoon light. All in all, the ring was not unlike the one she wore on a chain around her neck, only that the stone on the engagement ring was white instead of blue.

"Hermione Jane Granger, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" Severus asked, looking up at her. Hermione could see the insecurity and fear in his eyes, as well as love.

She smiled. The answer came to her from inside her soul, she didn't even have to think about it. "Yes."

Severus smiled, and her heart leapt. She loved his smile and she loved him. Gently, he took her hand and slid the ring on her finger. He then kissed her hand, and she was sure she blushed again, like she did very often when he was around.

They were silent for a few moments, and Hermione admired her ring. She normally wasn't one for fancy dresses and expensive jewellery – that was more Parvati and Lavender's metier – but she could see that it was finely crafted and must have cost a fortune, while looking very modest and inconspicuous.

"You can set a date – I don't care when, it could be in two months or ten years, or even thirty years – take as long as you need. This way, we have every right to be together – here, at Hogwarts, or anywhere else," Severus said. "You are legally an adult, and the Ministry or the school governors can't forbid us to see each other, especially now that we're engaged." He grinned. "I'd love to see Fudge's face, though, when he hears the news. He's bound to fall flat on his face from the shock of it; he never liked me, and he will like me even less when he hears about this. I'm sure he'll come to Hogwarts and talk to you, so be prepared to hear some of his ridiculous accusations. He'll probably want to see for himself that you are marrying me voluntarily."

Hermione smiled at the thought of telling Fudge exactly what she felt for Severus – of course, she could enhance the truth a bit to make it much more visual. She giggled. "If you want, I can make him squirm in his seat for you."

End Chapter Ten

A/N:

1 Kennywood is an amusement park in Pittsburgh. I have never been there, though. However, that I used that particular town, and that amusement park, was meant as a tribute to Jan McNeville, whose "Sixteen Years after Catastrophe" and "The Student in Question" were two of the first fanfics I've ever read. bows to Jan McNeville Her Professor Taylor (Cass) is one of my favourite OCs.

From now on, things will take a downward turn. Hermione and Severus go back to Hogwarts and have to deal with everyone's suspicions. Dumbledore has another "surprise" for them in store. It's also Severus' birthday! JKR revealed on her website that Severus' birthday is January 9, so I'll work that in somehow.

However, I want to repeat my warning that this story will not end with "…and they lived happily ever after." The story will truly deserve the R rating from the next chapter on.

Disclaimer: The characters and everything still belong to JK Rowling, and the title still belongs to T. Chapman. See chapter one for details.

The line at the beginning is taken from the Counting Crows song "Round here" from their 1993 album "August and Everything After". It's a very good album, and the music is perfectly depressive – depressive enough to get in the right mood to write sad, sad stories.

PS: I have now a Yahoo Group. Yay me for figuring out how it works. I will only use it to post updates and small notes of my progress, so if you want to be informed regularly (more or less), sign up. The link is in my bio.


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